#Danny being way smarter than people give him credit for | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

holllandtrash · 2 years ago

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6 to 1 | lando norris (part 10)

pairing: lando norris x leclerc!reader part 10 in the 6 to 1 series (read part 1 here)

lando's up for your challenge and you seem to forget he's a lot smarter than people give him credit for

word count: 6.5k tags/warnings: this is not soft this is pure smut with some plot, go read part 9 if you missed it bc it was literally published 2 hours ago

It finally clicked for Lando what you meant when you turned around.

This may have been his game but there were no rules as to what you could or couldn’t do in his attempts to move further up your list. All he could do was watch as Carlos pulled you away from the bar, back to a booth with a table this time.

You waited until you were seated and had taken a sip of your drink before bringing up what was mentioned before.

“Can you explain something to me?” You asked, resting your elbow on the table to put your chin in your hand. Your top was low cut and Carlos wasn’t at all subtle when his gaze momentarily dropped.

“I can try,” his hand found your thigh again, but this time it was under the table. He slowly dragged his fingers up and down your bare skin and you had to remind yourself that you quite literally asked for this.

Sure, you and Carlos were naturally a little flirty on any given day, but he was taking it a step further now that he had permission to.

“What did you mean earlier?” You glanced down at your drink. “About leaving the drivers speechless?”

A faint breath of laughter passed through his lips. He scratched his jaw as he spoke, “Does that really need explaining? Isn’t your ego already big enough?”

Unimpressed with his response, your expression fell flat. Carlos laughed again, giving your leg a squeeze.

“Come on, Y/N. Don’t say you haven’t noticed half of the drivers paying you a little extra attention. I mean, what does Pierre call you?”

“Little Leclerc?” You guessed.

“No, that’s Lando’s nickname for you,” Carlos peered across the club towards where Lando still stood by the bar. He must have been watching because Carlos dipped his head closer to yours before continuing on. You admired the commitment to the bit. “Pierre calls you the Paddock Princess. Pretty sure Yuki calls you bijin-san-”

“Bijin-san?” You repeated, this being the first you heard of it. “What does that mean?”

“Miss. Beautiful, I think, in Japanese. I might be wrong, but it’s something along those lines,” Carlos explained. “Danny loved having you around. Even Max loses his train of thought when you walk by and he's been with Kelly for years. Regardless, Y/N, you have a presence in the paddock. You’re not just a sight for sore eyes, you’re a breath of fresh air, especially during a busy weekend. We love having you at the races, we all love you and-” he paused, you caught the way his jaw tightened. The hold he had on your leg seemed to loosen. “...honestly, there was this sort of unspoken rule that you were off limits because of Charles but it seems like Lando’s the only one brave enough to break that rule.”

This was genuinely all news to you. Every time you attended a race, your attention was on Charles. It was only recently that you started looking at Lando a little differently, but you had no idea that other drivers turned their heads when you walked down the paddock.

Carlos included.

There were never any romantic feelings between you and Carlos, or so you thought. But the way he was looking at you now told you otherwise. He was thinking about how he missed his chance, how you were with Lando now.

You had been oblivious to all of it.

And you kissed him.

Which was incredibly disrespectful now that you thought about it. If you had known Carlos might have had feelings for you, you wouldn’t have crossed that line. You didn’t think about the damage it might have caused, like a potential strain in your relationship now that you were with Lando.

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, but Carlos’ smile was an assurance that you didn’t need to apologise for anything.

“Don’t be,” he said. “Lando makes you happy, that’s all any of us want for you.”

“No, but I shouldn’t have kissed you,” you admitted. The guilt was sitting in the pit of your stomach as you glanced at his hand on you before looking up again. “And I shouldn’t have asked for your help tonight, I’m sorry, Carlos. This was a bad idea. I don’t- I don’t want to lead you on.”

You shuffled away from him but Carlos was quick to grab your hand to stop you from leaving the booth.

“You’re not leading me on,” Carlos stated firmly. He placed his hand under your chin to ensure your eyes were on him. The calluses on his fingers were rough but his touch itself was soft. “I know you’re with Lando, we all know at this point, but we’re still friends, Y/N. And as your friend, I don’t mind helping you make Lando squirm a little bit.”

“Are you sure?” You sucked in a sharp breath. “I don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable position.”

“The only one who’s uncomfortable right now is Lando.”

You finally looked across the club as Carlos dropped his hand to your leg once more. Lando was watching you intensely, eyebrows pinched together as he was clearly coming up with a plan of his own. Your gaze narrowed as you offered him a sort of half smile, one that challenged him to try and keep up.

“He is going to hate me after tonight,” Carlos laughed, reaching for his drink to take a sip.

“He knows it’s just a game,” you told Carlos. “He’s just mad it’s no longer a one-player game.”

“So what’s the plan?”

You pulled your eyes off the very distressed Brit to look at Carlos again. He was up for anything, and you didn’t want to use his potential feelings for you to your advantage, but he was the one offering.

“I need you to tell me if I cross a line,” you demanded. That had to be clear before you went any further.

“You won’t-”

“But if I do, Carlos, you have to tell me.”

With a reluctant sigh, Carlos nodded. You waited a second to see if he had anything else to add to this agreement, but he stayed quiet. When you looked down at the drinks, Carlos didn’t need any verbal instruction to finish what was left. You both grabbed hold of your glasses and downed the rest of your drunks.

You slammed your empty glass on the table and grabbed hold of his wrist, practically pulling him out of the booth.

“Dance with me,” you said, not giving him any other option.

You dragged Carlos to the dance floor, but even then, you doubt it would have taken much coercion even if he didn’t want to accompany you. You had just placed your arms over his shoulders when he abruptly spun you around and pulled your hips back against him.

The one drink you had wasn’t flowing through your bloodstream yet, but you didn’t need the liquid courage to let the music move you. The pulsating beat was enough for you to find a rhythm against Carlos on the crowded dance floor.

You let your head fall back against his shoulder as you dragged your hand upwards, linking it around his neck. Your fingers became tangled through his hair as his own hands explored the curves of your body.

There was something so euphoric about dancing in a club. Stranger or not, the way your body melted in perfect harmony with someone else's was intimate, it was exhilarating, it was hot. Carlos held you tight against him, really taking your ‘pretend I’m someone you want to bring home’ instructions to another level.

“He’s looking,” Carlos said, voice rough. as you sensually rubbed your backside over his jeans.

Your eyes fluttered open for a second, just enough to see Lando gripping his drink so tight you wouldn’t have been surprised if it shattered in his grasp. A cunning smirk traced your lips as you sent a wink in his direction.

And then he took off. He left the glass on the bartop. You followed him with your eyes as much as you could but Lando soon became lost in the crowd of club goers.

You panicked for a second. Did you take it too far?

Carlos sensed your sudden hesitation and he spun you back around to face him, his hand moving to cup your face. This time when his thumb traced over your lips, you knew it was no accident. He was still putting on a show, even if Lando wasn’t watching.

“Charles would kill us both if he saw us right now,” he said, his hand spreading across your back to hold you against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat, you could feel each breath he took hit your face. You were both aware that your brother would go into cardiac arrest if he was an unfortunate witness to the way you two danced.

But Charles wasn’t around.

And you had no idea where Lando was either.

“I’m thinking Lando might kill us now too,” you laughed. It was easy to convince yourself this was just a game, that you were just messing with Lando, but you had no idea what was actually going through his head.

Carlos was a few inches taller than you, so he was able to spot Lando easily as he worked his way through the crowd. When you noticed his face twist in confusion you turned around as well and stood on your toes, trying to find him but having no luck.

He slid his hand around your waist very protectively, as you used him for balance, trying to crane your neck even more. You both had stopped dancing at this point, now just trying to make sense of what Lando was doing.

“What is he…” Carlos spoke your thoughts when you finally found Lando, making his way towards the DJ booth. The security guard happily let him past the ropes and both you and Carlos watched as Lando walked up the steps and introduced himself to the DJ. He then leaned in to speak, only to glance your way immediately after.

“This can’t be good,” you averted your attention to Carlos now.

Lando noticed you staring and he raised his hand, waving at you with the most taunting smirk you’d ever seen in your life.

It was a few seconds later when Tove Lo’s voice faded out, but no new song followed. A chorus of complaints was heard as people turned to the booth but the DJ was quick to grab the mic and bring it to his lips.

“We’ve got a few guests here tonight!” The DJ shouted and the crowd cheered when those who were not drunk enough yet realised that the F1 driver himself was standing up on the booth. “Lando Norris is no stranger to the DJ table but everyone, please give it up for Carlos Sainz!”

And then the spotlight was on you.

Well, more specifically, Carlos, but there was no space between your bodies and you were suddenly blinded by the bright pink light shining down from above. Carlos’ grip on you tightened, just for your safety, but this was not a crowd that would bombard them for pictures or autographs. These were Monte Carlo locals for the most part, and probably used to running into a driver every now and again.

That didn’t mean you weren’t getting unwanted attention.

Lando grabbed the mic from the DJ and his voice rang through all of the speakers, “Who wants to hear the Smooth Operators’ DJ-ing debut?” He held his hand out in the direction of Carlos and the club went wild.

You were both suddenly being pushed towards the stairs of the booth, even though Carlos, very loudly, tried to protest and explain that he had absolutely no interest in pretending to be a DJ for the night. This was not a crowd he could say no to.

Arrogance was painted all over Lando’s face as you and Carlos finally reached the base of the stairs. He patted the DJ on the back as the security lifted the rope again. He eyed Carlos’ up challengingly as he stepped down.

“They’re calling for you, mate,” Lando told him, clearly proud of himself for coming up with this idea. “You can’t let them down.”

Carlos looked between you and Lando before ultimately shrugging his shoulders and giving in. He’d be booed out of here if he turned around and didn’t at least try to DJ. Lando knew this. Lando knew Carlos was a people pleaser, this was the only way to get him away from you.

You tried to follow Carlos up the booth, wanting to ignore Lando and this bullshit move he just pulled but Lando’s hand found your wrist and he pulled you into his chest as soon as he stepped off the stairs.

“You’re the worst, you realise that, right?” You breathed out, your chest rising against his.

You really did try to keep the smile off your face, but you had to admit, this bullshit move was actually kind of smart.

“You said I had to work for your attention,” Lando repeated your instructions back to him, lifting his hand to push a few strands of hair behind your ear. His fingers trailed down your jaw as he kept your face upwards, eyes focused on him. “But getting everyone else's attention on Carlos is a lot easier.”

“That’s cheating.”

“That’s working smarter, not harder.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to turn your head so you couldn’t see the way the corner of your lips curled upwards, but Lando’s grip on your jaw only tightened as he pulled your face to his. His lips met yours with a frantic passion, not caring who in the club might have been watching. All he cared about was making you remember who you came here with.

And who you were undoubtedly about to leave with.

You ran your fingers through the hair on the back of his scalp, tugging on the strands to get a reaction out of him. A groan emitted from the back of his throat and Lando had to remind himself that iPhones were a thing and if you didn’t stop soon, someone would catch you on camera.

“We have two options,” Lando muttered against your lips. He dropped his hand to the stair railing behind you, essentially blocking you in.

He lowered his head to your ear, pressing the softest kiss to the spot on your neck that had your knees going weak.

“We either go back to my place because it’s only a few blocks away,” Lando suggested, his fingers sliding further into your hair. The grip he had as he twisted the strands around his fingers had you inhaling a sharp breath, anticipating the second option. Even in the dark club, you could see his devious grin. “Or…we stay here and you can keep pretending you like Carlos more than me. Choice is yours.”

It was an easy decision.

All it took was one look and Lando was pulling you outside and towards one of the many waiting cars that lined the streets of Monte Carlo on Fridays and Saturdays. He opened the door for you, he always did. His chivalrous habits weren’t disappearing, even if you were both counting down the minutes until you pulled up to Lando’s flat.

You had spent maybe fifteen minutes at the nightclub. Just long enough for you to have a singular drink. You weren’t even sure if Lando finished his. It was safe to say that neither of you could blame the alcohol for the sudden wave of desperation.

When Lando climbed into the backseat of the cab next to you, it took all of his strength to not devour you right there right now. He had to settle with keeping his hand on your leg, loving how easy it was to push the hem of your skirt up with just his thumb.

You grabbed his wrist as you clenched your legs together, stopping him before he got any ideas, “This is not the plane ride 2.0.”

“Oh please,” Lando rolled his eyes as he raised his other hand to your jaw. His thumb traced over the curve of your lips, “You loved that plane ride.”

Love was not the word you would have used. You wanted to murder him and straddle him at the same time and to make matters worse, you couldn’t even do anything when you returned to your flat because he had to leave so suddenly. You had practically been waiting all week, longer even, for this moment and god help you, it was not going to start in the backseat of a cab.

That’s why Lando was patient. He had to be with you, he wanted to be. He slowly worked his way up your driver ranking list with the ulterior motive of working his way into your life. He knew you would never allow yourself to be so vulnerable with him if there weren’t any feelings involved, but there were.

On both ends. You liked him so much it hurt. And Lando had been waiting for this. Waiting for you to open your eyes and see what was right in front of you all along. You weren’t just friends, you would never go back to being just friends.

You were so much more and you didn’t care about the risks anymore. You just wanted him.

Lando hadn’t lied when he said his place was only a few blocks away, but you didn’t get a chance to ask for a tour of the layout when he opened the door for you. Lando helped you take your heels off but then a squeal passed through your teeth when he suddenly swooped up and carried you down the hall towards the bedroom.

“I thought people only did this when they got married,” you teased, smiling up at him. It was illuminating, even in the dark.

And he laughed, “Little Leclerc, are you proposing to me?”

“Considering the fact you haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet-” the rest of that sentence was cut off when Lando tossed you onto the bed, your back colliding with the duvet, your hair fanned out around you.

You pushed yourself up on your elbows and tilted your head slightly as Lando turned on the lamp in the corner. You watched as he reached for the hem of his shirt when he turned around, pulling it off and tossing it on the floor somewhere.

When his eyes met yours, Lando had to take a second.

He wanted to bottle up this moment forever. Tuck it away and keep it safe, or possibly live in it for the rest of his life if he could.

You, on the edge of his bed, staring up at him with those bright eyes and long lashes. Your lips a light shade of pink, almost matching the blush on your cheeks. There was no way of telling if it was makeup or just you reacting to the way he was looking at you.

And you tried to keep eye contact, you really did. But he was standing in front of you shirtless and you had never been able to really appreciate just how toned he was until right now. You had to stop yourself from reaching forward and dragging your hands over the defined muscles that made up his abdomen.

Lando finally knelt on the bed, his hand going to the exposed nape of your neck, fingertips grazing the creases of your skin as he gently pushed you back down so your head hit the mattress. Your gaze darted all over his face, unsure where to look as your smile started to grow.

“What?” He asked, voice lower than usual. But he noticed your expression and he wanted to know what was on your mind.

You cupped his face lightly, your fingers twisting through the short curls on the side of his head as a soft exhale passed through your lips.

And you could have said what you were thinking. You could have told him that you were so happy it scared you. You could have said that you made the right decision, leaving the club. You could have said a lot of things that would have earned a smile in return.

But you still had a playful side, and Lando saw it as soon as your stare narrowed the slightest bit. He almost regretted asking.

“I still think you’re third on my list,” you murmured, your words followed by the cutest laugh he had ever heard. He couldn’t even bring himself to roll his eyes in response.

“You don’t mean that,” Lando decided. He leaned forward and pressed his mouth against the curve of your throat. Your breath hitched in your throat when he trailed his lips upwards, “You barely lasted fifteen minutes with Carlos before I had to come save you.”

“Save me?” You repeated, but your laughter was caught off when Lando kissed the spot on your neck right below your earlobe. You shifted beneath him, legs clenched together. Lando caught the way you hummed in pleasure, just from his soft kiss alone.

You might not have needed saving but you definitely needed him.

He hovered his face over yours. There was less than an inch between you and all it took was that smirk from Lando for you to connect your lips once again. It was desperate, the way your mouths danced together, you were both craving each other.

“Lando,” you pulled back slightly.

Of course, concern took over. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable, especially after your conversation that took place the morning after he picked you up from the wedding.

Before he could say anything that might steer this in any other direction, your hand roamed up his body before wrapping it around his shoulders.

“I’m on the pill,” you told him. “And I know I’m clean, I just need to throw that out there before-”

He captured your lips again, swallowing the rest of your words. He coaxes your head back down to the pillow and you revel in the way his hands grab hold of your legs, pushing the hem of your skirt further up.

You kissed him like you’d never get the chance to again as you tangled your fingers through his hair. It was easy to blame the eagerness for the way you pulled a bit too hard, but the low whimper, almost like a beg, that came out of him was sex to your ears.

“Hair pulling,” you taunt, he could feel you smirk against his lips. “You’re into that?”

“Very much so,” Lando breathed out, no shame in admitting it. He nibbled on your lower lip, tugging on it gently before reconnecting them in another breathless kiss. His hand trailed down your body until he found the hem of your constricting top. You mumbled something about just taking it off and Lando listened. Pulling back so he could rip it from your torso.

And you weren’t wearing a bra either so Lando swore under his breath as he cupped your breast. It didn’t take him long to find the daisy tattoo you kept hidden and he softly traced his fingers over it.

“Cute,” Lando whispered. It was a simple design, delicate even. Lando didn’t let himself think about how another driver had already seen it because that didn’t matter. You were with him now.

Before you could react, your breath hitched in surprise when he suddenly sat up on his heels and reached for the waistband of your skirt. He pulled it off of you with ease and just like your shirt, it became discarded somewhere on the floor.

Lando parted your legs, resting his knee between them, but before he could rid the last bit of material off your body, he dropped his face to yours again to press his lips to yours in a kiss that quite literally took the air out of your lungs. His fingers gripped the bare skin of your hip, toying with the elastic of your underwear.

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this,” Lando murmured, pressing a kiss to the corner of your lips and then slowly working his way down, leaving a trail of warm, open mouth kisses along your throat, your collarbone, between the curve of your breasts, everywhere that was causing a fire to light within you.

He pressed his lips to your naval as he slowly bent your knees and raised your hips off the bed to pull the thin fabric off.

When he dipped his head between your legs, his hot breath on your core had you automatically pulling your legs together. Lando chuckled at your reaction, loving that he hadn’t even touched you yet and he could get this type of response from you.

His fingers teased the slit of your folds that had only been growing wetter with each passing second. The sensitivity of it all made you squirm, but Lando didn’t keep his hand there for long.

A breathy wine escaped from the back of your throat when Lando pressed his lips to your thigh. His teeth left marks on your skin as he worked his way up all along the inside of your leg. You wouldn’t have complained if you woke up tomorrow to an array of purple bruises on your thigh in the imprints of his lips.

When Lando finally reaches your centre, you're flooded with a heavy wave of bliss cascading through you. He's intentionally slow as he slots his tongue against the bud of your clit, wanting to feel you squirm.

You drop your hand to his hair. Knowing that he liked it only encouraged you to pull and direct him further between your legs.

Lando’s grip on your thighs tightens as his tongue moves to your folds. You attempt to muffle your desperate pleas for him by biting the inside of your cheek so hard until you taste blood. You can feel your nerves standing on their ends from the hair on the back of your neck all the way down to your swollen clit.

Eventually it becomes too hard to stay quiet.

“God, Lando,” you’re falling apart from just his tongue alone and he knows it. He loves it. His chuckle against you sent a vibration right to your core.

His nose brushes against your clit and your hips buck against his face. Your grip on his hair tightens and Lando uses that as incitement to speed up, working his tongue in and out of you with such tenacity like he was a drowning man and was searching for the air to save him between your folds.

The moan that escapes you is angelic when Lando inserts a two of his fingers deep inside you, curling them upwards. Your legs shake involuntarily in response and Lando just had to lift his head up to see your face twist in pleasure. It’s a sight he wants permanently seared into his mind, one that he wants to see everyday. One that he wished he could have seen sooner.

He thinks you're beautiful but all you can think about is how close you are to coming undone from just his fingers and tongue.

And you didn’t want that. You wanted this to last longer. You wanted to feel every inch of him inside you before ultimately falling apart.

“Lando,” his name blends nicely with a quiet moan. “Y- you need to stop, I don’t want to cum yet.”

Yet, you say. As if you don’t have faith he could bring you to an orgasm more than once. Lando is almost offended at your train of thought and he just dives in deeper. Disregarding your plea to stop because, let's be real, you don’t actually want him to stop.

He closed his eyes and savoured the sweet taste of you. With his tongue working alongside his fingers, it doesn’t take long until he feels your muscles tighten around him. Your legs clench on either side of his head, you’re tugging on his hair so hard it has to hurt but Lando doesn’t seem to mind.

There’s a jolt to all of your senses when you cum. A vivacious rumble rolls through your body. Your legs twitch as your eyes screw shut and Lando laps up every drop of you. You’re intoxicating, is what it is and this is easily something he could get used to.

You pull him up to your face, connecting your lips with his in a lazy kiss.

“I told you to stop,” your eyes flutter open to meet his. Even after all that, the only way to describe his stare is hungry. Lando isn’t anywhere near done with you. “I didn’t want to cum yet.”

Lando laughed, “When have I ever listened to you?”

He had a point there.

He backed away from you to pull his bottoms off, adding to the mess of clothes on the floor. You propped yourself up on your elbows when he reached the waistband of his briefs. When he finally removed the constricting material, your jaw fell slack.

“Should I be offended?” Lando asked, crawling back on the bed. “You thought I’d be smaller?”

There was no right answer. You just stayed quiet, taking his jaw delicately in your hand as he positioned himself above you.

Lando nodded towards the floor, “I can just put my clothes back on if you’re disappointed then-”

“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes but Lando couldn’t help but grin. “You’re not going anywhere.”

“No?” Lando, grips the underside of your leg again, pulling you further down the mattress so you couldn’t rely on the headboard for any support. “What do you want me to do, then?”

You pull his face down to yours, but refrain from kissing him. Your lips barely brush over his, “I want you to fuck me, Lando.”

He should have guessed you weren’t one to beg. You were always blunt, straightforward in all the ways that made him forget how to tease you. And if he was being honest, this was maybe the one time he didn’t want to be playful with you. He wanted to see you fall apart again, he wanted to hear his name pass through your lips combined with strangled moans.

Lando pinned you down, licking a stripe from your collarbone up to your jaw as he grips your ass tightly. He starts to nibble on your earlobe and your back arches off the bed, feeling the tip of his cock tease your folds.

“I want you,” you say again, breathlessly. Lando melts at the sound of your voice but he doesn’t let him deter him from the way your body is reacting to his touch.

You can feel yourself throbbing as Lando takes your face in his hand, his thumb tugging down your bottom lip before slowly sliding it past your teeth.

“You want me to go slow?” He asks. He doesn’t think that’s what you want, but he still has to be sure.

You swirl your tongue around the tip of his thumb as you shake your head. The cocky arrogance in his expression is unmissable as he removes his thumb and kisses you once more. You try to kiss him back but the moment he enters you, you need a second to catch your breath.

Lando really didn’t want to tease you, but he had to go slow to start off with. Your hands move to his back, already he can feel the imprint of your nails in his skin. He drops his forehead to yours, holding back a groan himself as your walls tighten around him.

And then something in his snaps. He bends your knees upwards as your fingers rake over the crevices in his back. You lift your hips up as he pulls out and thrusts into you once, and then twice and already he’s found a rhythm that’s making you see stars.

“Oh fuck,” he mutters, your name falling from his lips as he drops his face to the crook of your neck. His words are caught off when he attaches his lips to your skin, as if pounding into you wasn’t enough, he wanted you to feel him everywhere.

Your shallow breaths are uneven and erratic as he continues, losing control bit by bit as he goes on. Lando knows exactly where to put his hands on your body, he knows to swallow your moans with his mouth, he knows that you clenching around him is a feeling he could drown in.

You whimper when he suddenly props himself and moves backwards, keeping his body perpendicular to your core. His grip on your hips is rough, maybe a little too rough but you’re not one to complain. You’ve seen his hands, you know the strength he carries, you knew what you were getting yourself into when you realised you were starting to grow feelings for the Formula 1 driver.

Lando finds his rhythm again, staring down at you, at the way your eyes gloss over with each deep thrust until he feels your legs tremble in his grasp. He slows, but doesn’t stop.

“You okay?” He asks, his chest heaving.

It was sweet that he cared but you didn’t want to be able to walk tomorrow. You didn’t want him to stop, not now, not when it felt this good.

“Keep going,” you urgered, adding a quiet, “Please,” at the end because you just knew Lando hearing you beg would send him into another world. He listens to you, surprisingly and you could have sworn his next rough thrust could have broken you.

And then he pulls out, despite what you were previously asking for and it leaves you pouting.

“Lando-”

“‘Wanna pace myself,” he tells you. You can see his neck glisten with sweat. “You feel so fucking good.”

You lift your body to his to wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him back down. The kiss you share is furious and driven by lust and desire and he really did want to take his time, but you’re impossible to resist. With the way your body melts against his, the way your mouths move in sync, it's natural, it's euphoric.

You pulled back, swallowing as your eyes met his, “Either fuck me or I’m going back to that club-”

Lando didn’t let you finish whatever bullshit line you were going to say. You didn’t mean it, you just needed to light fire under him. The last thing you wanted was for him to pace himself, to hold back, and he didn’t.

He rams his cock into you again before you could take back your words, fucking you much harder now than before.

Your strangled moans curl out of your throat as the feeling of him deep inside you has you squeezing your eyes shut. Your body falls limp against the mattress as you attempt to hold yourself against him. One of his arms rests on the pillow next to your head and his fingers twist through your hair.

The gesture would have been sweet if he wasn’t pounding into you like there was no tomorrow. Instead, Lando uses the grip on your hair to bring your attention back to him. Your eyes flutter open and you get lost in this moment.

You can feel how tense his muscles are from holding back and you realise he doesn’t want to cum until you do.

But the way his cock stretches you out has you giving in underneath him. He touches the deepest parts of you like he belongs there, like he was meant to be there. His thumb traces along your jaw and his gentle touch contrasting against his hips slapping against yours leaves you whimpering. He nearly loses it himself at the sound you just made.

“Lando I’m so close,” you whispered. Thank God.

He tries to smile, it gets lost against your mouth as he kisses you. “I want you to cum for me,” he mutters against your lips.

Your orgasm hits you hard. You were a fucking idiot for thinking he couldn’t make you cum again because your body is shaking and he feels all of it. He feels your walls clench around him as you grip his hair and call out his name through a string of desperate breaths and expletives and it makes him come undone with you.

Lando’s buried himself deep inside of you. Something between a grunt and a moan escapes his lips as his cock twitches against your walls and it makes you want to stay in this moment forever. Your limbs are tangled together, your bodies are sticking with sweat and your breaths are in sync, but if you thought about it, the two of you had been in sync this whole time.

A minute passes, maybe two, where you don’t say anything. You don’t need to say anything.

Lando kissed your cheek and then your other cheek and when your nose scrunched up he kissed your forehead. You shifted uncomfortably when he slid out of you, but it was when you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching for his hand as he climbed out of bed did it hit you that there was no going back now.

That was the most vulnerable, most intimate you could have been with someone, someone that you didn’t want to be vulnerable with. You should have felt sick, you should have been panicking about what was to follow but instead you just wanted him back in bed with you. You wanted to stay in this bubble you had created.

You knew you couldn’t, though. When he came back, briefs now on and an oversized shirt in his hands for you, you knew that this moment was too good to last.

But you didn’t let yourself think about it. About the rest of the world, the people in your lives, the media. Lando crawled back into bed next to you once you put his shirt on and you faced each other. Your hand rested along his cheek and he turned slightly to kiss the inside of your palm.

“I had a no dating drivers rule,” you whispered. Lando laughed in response, reaching forward to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “I hate that you made me break it.”

“Sorry about that.”

“No you’re not.”

“No I’m not,” he quickly agreed, licking his lips. “I’m also not sorry about kicking Carlos to third on your list.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no arguing with him. Not after the stunt he pulled in the club, not after finally being intimate. Lando had successfully worked his way up from sixth to second.

But there was still one more driver to go.

And it wasn’t about competition anymore, not with Charles. Lando had to approach this one from a different angle. He couldn’t compete against your brother, he knew how important family was to you.

The last thing Lando wanted was to draw a line between you and Charles and he wasn't going to do that.

He just had to win him over.

masterlist here

taglist: @moneymasnn@thotd-f1 @masonspulisic @mcmuppet@f1-futurewag-16-3-4-63 @alilstressyandlotdepressy @themisric @happydazzz123 @moonxblossom @norrisleclercf1 @scarlettisconfused @sbgal @e-lisa-bettan @harrysdimple05 @ophcelia @alesainz @fandomxs1 @majx00 @sbgal @mehrmonga @themockingjayreader @f1mockingjay @topguncultleader @lclrnelliluvs @moonxblossom @dr3lover @andrewgarfields-girlfriend @tsarinablogs @noescapricho-essentimiento @xqueenslytherinx if i missed someone im so sorry

#lando norris #lando norris au #lando norris instagram edit #lando norris social media au #lando norris fic #f1 requests #f1 #f1 fic #formula 1 #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #holllandtrash

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theringers · 3 years ago

Note

V-card anon: hi sorry about that first ask i kinda went into a fugue state (spelling?) altered state of reality maybe when i wrote that and damn near outlined a fic in your inbox

The way we played hot seat was either part of a larger drinking game when a certain card was pulled from a deck, or just on it's own. You sit in a circle, everyone has a drink, usually a beer or cider. In the card pull version, the one who pulls the card gets asked a question by every person playing and if they refuse to answer they drink from their drink. In the standalone, you do that but everyone gets a turn being asked until people get bored and leave. Fun way to find out shit about people. Usually the unwritten rule is that you can't lie. I imagine everyone sitting on shitty chouches and chairs in a semi circle around a table full of cups and bottles playing it

Questions i have been asked: are you a top or bottom? Do you like anal? Wheres the weirdest place you've fucked? Body count? Favorite position (sexual)? Fuck marry kill/ignore people in this room (EVERY TIME I PLAYED I GOT THIS QUESTION)? Tits or ass or other? Favorite non sexual body part ex. Thigh? Ideal fuck buddy? Sex regrets? Etc

Also more weird details i have head cannoned out for some drivers and most likely does not fit with irl personalities, do with this what you will, use it or don't i just have feelings. Also everyone is like compressed in age to like 20-27ish except for some of the grid who i will just think of as younger alumns who come back:

Danny R: social chair, owns a jeep he takes the doors off of in the summer, walks girls home at night to make sure they're ok, tries to DJ house events and is rebuffed by literally everyone, has like 30 pairs of vans you trip over in his room, stolen roadsigns everywhere, masters in something arigcultural or physiological, cutoff frat shirts for days, fuckboy but nice, a bit cringe, will drive around with you at night so you can scream, met reader bc she had a band tee on and wanted to talk to her about it (no gatekeeping)

Charles: some kind of engineering or math degree but no one has any idea how the fuck he's gotten so far, 4.0 never studies, games with other house members, will show up at events randomly you will have no idea how he gets on your couch but he is there, the best and worst taste in clothes, is the only one allowed to play the piano in the house, sweet, cannot help you with studies but is always down for helping you out after, has to be reminded to clean stuff, disaster bi, reader met his gf first and they probably met through that

Pierre: good fashion and music taste, shirt is gone halfway through the night, also fuckboy but wholesome, actually studies, plays a sport for sure probably soccer in some way either club or Division he's too good for rec, will hold your hair back so you can throw up, will tell you your outfit sucks, good at math, also part of the squad that games, econ major, workout buddies with reader anday have taken a math class together

Max: is part of the hockey team he will go pro, also actually studies, got into gaming because of Charles, has the nicest car, is serious until he gets a couple drinks in him, he and Daniel are close and roomed together at some point, owns like 30 sets of the same outfit a white tee and jeans, knows reader through Dan and they get dragged by him to some of the same stuff

Lando: is a pledge or new member his big is Carlos, undeclared major, just happy to be here, gaming squad, used to play lacrosse or something equally obscure, king of knowing where the good snacks are, weirdly good at beer pong, growing into a fuckboy wholesomeness level tbd, probably sweet with reader as she helped him through a blackout or something, met her because she's basically house mom for some of the new boys (the kind of mom who will teach you to do laundry or iron ONCE)

Carlos: hockey flow but does not play hockey, actually studies and is smarter than what people give him credit for, came from a private high school and uni really opened his horizons, also good study buddy, gets along with most people, goes to office hours the most out of the actually studies gang, fun at parties, owns the frat dogs, he and reader met at Office hours (they were the only students) and found they had mutual friends too

Lewis: is/was president of frat, great grades greater bod, did full evolution from fuckboy to good man, has the back tests and the moral support, up for late noght talks about life, definitely was a D1 athlete, best fashion game, implemented no hazing policy, fits into notable alum or PhD category

Mick: undergrad like Lando, also plays soccer or something, too sweet, also walks girls home/holds your hair back etc, cleans parts of the house that aren't his responsibility, higher alcohol tolerance than you expect, everyone is bizarrely protective of him, legacy member (his dad was a legend), drives a motorbike around campus and can't decide between law and psychology, actually studies, met reader through the frat and she would die for him, brings her to class on the bike sometimes because the bike is faster

George: business major, frat treasurer, three ring binder business casual in class kind of guy, nice enough, shirt comes off when drunk, runs marathons and a podcast about investments, best notes in the game and great study partner, actually studies, is drinking monster at 6AM but not because he stayed up late, he and reader met through the frat and sometimes drink wine and bitch together

Lance: hockey player, legacy member, studies sometimes, sarcasm on point, great at stack cup, very chill, knows every good nap spot on campus, also has high alcohol tolerance, is the kind of person who does well in the cold but does not like it, wears headphones so people don't talk to him, great one on one but not in crowds, business major and minor in computer science, probably also met thru Lance's gf but vibe as more introverted people and will cover for each other if one does not want to go out

Nicky: a good boy, part of the walks people home squad, sets up designated drivers for parties, good snack game, future in medical field, good listener, pretty good study buddy, midnight snack enabler, met reader through frat and his gf he and reader are on babysitting duty together sometimes when others get too drunk/high

Yuki: also a pledge or new, majoring in games or computer science as they gave me the same energy as him, games squad, bit of a mad lad, has several stolen street signs, good, met reader through frat and Yuki is the only one patient enough to explain some games to reader, they cuss people out on mic

Esteban: good man, has a full ride scholarship, actually studies, also good study buddy, Dan's little, plays soccer but maybe on a rec team because he prioritizes school, very sweet guy as well, probably chose a really practical major/dual major, met reader through Dan and are also dragged similar places by him

Antonio: manbun, philosophy or classics major possibly business dual, generally good natured but can be seen supplying his own wine at parties, used to be really into metal but kept the hair, does not know that people find him attractive, soccer boi, met reader through frat and she's the only one who will (pretend) to listen to him rant about philosophy

Alex Albon: another full scholarship guy, somehow gets along with everyone, switched majors due to an asshole professor, electrical engineering or computer engineering, actually studies, helps with frat pets,will show you pictures of his cats at home, sweetie, another contender for will hold your hair or walk you home, probably met reader through a class or club and found they had mutual friends and that reader is friends with his gf

Notable alums:

Checo - dad, successful in finance somehow (he looks like an really successful accountant of CFO to me idk why)

Kimi - dad but people forget he is, holds the record for most drinks in 24 hours that will never be come close to by anyone else, shows up on random alum weekends with 2 kegs, legally cannot tell you what he does or he would actually have to murder you

Valterri - was good at a sport when he was there, now a very effective lead engineer at an architectural firm

Seb - environmental or mechanical engineering, all around good guy with someone the best grades in frat history

Alonso - legendary for sexual exploits (consensual)

Anyone I put as actually studies is probably the type reader would hang around for more serious stuff/schoolwork and would probably be closer to, with the exception of Dan bc I feel like he'd be like we're friends now :)) we shall hang or Charles bc he will just show up. I also imagine she has a pretty good friendship with any existing gf, however if a driver does have a gf and he is the love interest sorry bb girl u gotta go for the purposes of this fic

Sorry this is so long hahaaaaaaa glad you liked my Charles thoughts ilu

i honestly wasn’t going to share this like the rest of the anon asks i’ve gotten that i keep close to my heart but this was just too good to keep to myself.

LOOK! AT! THIS!

f1 drivers as frat bros/college students headcannon

i’m writing a series - each “chapter” will be a smut with a different frat bro and i’m hoping to post a sneak peek this week some time but here’s something to hold you over and give you some ideas

to my vcard anon - i appreciate this so much. my inbox is always open for ur thoughts bc they are SO GOOD !! can’t wait for you to read the first part of the series bby

PS if some of this doesn’t make sense to u feel free to send in asks (i know a lot of this is focused on american college culture so if u don’t get it i’m happy to explain)

#f1 smut asks #headcanons #f1 imagines #vcard anon #f1 blurb #f1 headcanon #f1 as frat bros

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dovewingingit · 5 years ago

Text

Changes: Jack Fenton

The other main character going through a massive personality makeover. The idiot dad trope was old when the show first aired, and I believe it has aged poorly. Coupled with learning about my own neurodivergence, I've decided Jack gets a reboot

Jack Fenton has adhd (he's also probably autistic but went undiagnosed since it looked pretty similar to his adhd). He's still fairly oblivious, struggles to stay focused, and doesn't think ahead most of the time, but these are things he's trying to work on. He's much smarter than people give him credit for most of the time (he is an inventor and scientist after all). Yeah he's still goofy and can come off as an idiot, but he's ultimately very well-meaning. He has hyperfixations/special interests on ghosts and inventing, and he can and will info-dump about his latest projects or about ghosts.

Part of why the portal had the on/off buttons on the inside was he grabbed the wrong panel and didn't realize it because the buttons were covered. He feels pretty awful knowing Danny got hurt because he failed to check the paneling properly, but is grateful that he seems to be okay after being electrocuted. He's still none the wiser when Danny becomes considerably more clumsy, thinking it was an after effect of the accident. He's usually so focused on something else he doesn't notice Danny turning invisible at times, or how his eyes seem to glow green when he gets upset. He's bothered by Danny missing his curfew, his slipping grades, and how he doesn't do his chores as often, but he thinks Danny is going through a phase of teenage rebellion or perhaps he needs accommodations in school and this was his way of saying something is wrong.

I've decided to change the Fentons from ghost hunters to ghost researchers because they do seem to want to know more about ghosts themselves, and destroying them probably isn't the best option for that. Jack had still grown attached to the idea of potentially ripping them apart molecule by molecule, but is learning to stop himself. He can't destroy his possible test subjects, or else there won't be anything to properly study. Danny still panicked about his parents finding out his secret because he doesn't want to become another of their test subjects.

Speaking of Danny's secret, I like to think Jack and Maddie gradually put the pieces together based on their encounters with Phantom, but dismissed it because it didn't make sense. Until Reality Trip proved them right. Jack is once again pretty upset because this went back to the issue of the incorrect paneling of the portal (after Jazz explained what Danny had told her). He's also crushed to think that Danny would think he'd become a test subject and then be tossed away by them. Ghost, human, or in between, he and Maddie love their son. It's because of this acceptance that Danny elects not to erase his parents' memories after Reality Trip, although he does do it to everyone else.

It's after figuring out Danny that Jack realizes what happened to Vlad from his lack of focus. He tries to reason with him multiple times, but Vlad is having none of it. When Vlad tries to take over Amity Park in the revised edition of Phantom Planet, knowing Danny was currently powerless, it was Jack who fought him until Danny regained his powers after getting blasted by multiple ghosts trying to gather allies to stop Plasmius (I'll explain my logic for that in another post). Jack is able to stall Vlad until Danny and his new allies return. Unfortunately, his alternate future self had been released and was now allied with Vlad. At one point, Danny is struck down and seems to be defeated. Jack, in a flurry of emotion at seeing his son like that, gets a couple good shots in at the two ghosts before Danny tells him to cover his ears and stay behind him. Danny unleashes a Ghostly Wail that ultimately weakens the ghosts enough for capture via Fenton Thermos. Danny's secret is out to Amity Park for good now, and it's Jack who keeps the Guys in White as far away as possible from any Fentons.

He may mess up a lot, may not think things through, and struggles to keep focused, but he would do anything to protect his family.

(He and Maddie also do get samples from Danny with his consent to do research on. The revelation of halfas is a very interesting subject among fellow ghost researchers and biologists alike.)

#danny phantom #danny phantom rewrite #jack fenton

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dannyphandump · 6 years ago

Text

Dancing Around the Truth pt. 3

(Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | to be continued) (Read on AO3 | FFN)

Summary: The last thing Valerie wanted was to get caught up in Paulina’s plot to ask Phantom to the winter formal. Unfortunately Paulina’s made sure she doesn’t have a choice. Meanwhile, Danny just wants to finish his Algebra quiz. For @phantombreadproject for the Christmas Truce 2018.

Danny paced the small floor of Valerie’s shed, growing more nervous by the moment. Maybe he shouldn’t have picked this place. For all she said about not hunting him anymore, she hadn’t been back to clean out the torture chamber setup. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the main source of his worries.

It’s just Paulina, he told himself, trying to calm his core, which had insisted on dropping the already-freezing air several degrees. It’s not like I’m going up against a ghost or… who am I kidding, I’d way rather be dealing with ghosts than this.

His face burned in spite of the cold. It was just Paulina. Just the girl he’d had a crush on all of freshman year, until his brain had finally caught up with puberty. In hindsight, he could see just how stupid he’d been to actually try going out with her. He’d embarrassed himself because of her more times than he could count.

But that was two years ago. He liked to think he was smarter than that now - even if his grades didn’t show it. Still, he couldn’t help worrying that she’d manage to get in his head again. When Paulina wanted something, she usually got it.

And what she wants is a date with me. Well, half of me anyway. He laughed and ran a hand through his hair, which was accumulating frost at the tips. If it had been his human half Paulina was interested in, maybe things would have been different. Or maybe not. She was way too high-maintenance to add on top of his already hectic ghost-fighting schedule.

After what felt like an eternity, the shed door finally slid open - Valerie had rigged it so it worked more like a garage door, allowing her to fly in without dismounting her board. He forced himself not to react at the sight of the girl clinging to Valerie’s waist for dear life.

“See? There’s your ghost. Happy?” Valerie said, simultaneously retracting her board and closing the shed door. Paulina yelped but managed to keep her footing in - were those stilettos? That couldn’t be comfortable - as she dropped to the ground.

“You could give a girl a warning,” she muttered, but then her full attention was on Danny. “Phantom! You actually came to see me!”

He forced a grin onto his face. “Well, technically you came to see me.”

She sauntered up to him, quickening his core’s frequency in spite of himself. The past year had been good to her. Her hair was as long and glossy as ever, and her emerald green sweater clung to her waist. At least she’d given up the crop tops for the winter.

He took an involuntary step back as she got close. Too close already. Her bold, flowery perfume strangled him, intensified by his ghost form’s heightened senses. Both Sam and Valerie always had more subtle, gentle scents. He should thank them for that.

“I see you, you see me, the important thing is we’re seeing each other.” Paulina smiled. “I didn’t think the Red Huntress could do it. How did she finally manage to catch you?” She asked, talking like they were old friends. Or old… something more than that. Which they definitely weren’t.

“Uh, she didn’t.” He cast a glance towards Valerie, as if she could bail him out. She relaxed against the wall with her arms casually crossed. He couldn’t make out her face through her mask, but couldn’t help feeling like she was laughing at him. Maybe she hadn’t let the whole fiasco with Cujo and her dad’s job go after all.

“She just asked me to come, that’s all,” he said, eyes still hovering over Valerie, because that was easier than looking at Paulina. Not that Valerie didn’t look good too, but - that was another path he didn’t have the attention for now. He cleared his throat. “She said you had something important to ask me.”

“Oh. Yes. I…” Suddenly she looked nervous. Paulina, nervous? Around him? The thought was so shocking that he almost missed her next words. “I wanted to ask you to the Casper High Winter Formal.”

She stared up at him through long eyelashes, her hands clasped down by her waist. He blinked stupidly.

“Winter formal?” He echoed. Valerie hadn’t provided that detail. Not that it mattered, he guessed; a date was a date, but the school dance? There were a million reasons that he couldn’t make that happen. That didn’t stop her from quickly continuing on.

“Yes, I even asked Vice Principal Lancer if you’d be allowed to come, and he said if you signed the out-of-school forms-”

Danny gaped.

“Wait, you talked to Lancer about asking me out?” On one hand, he almost wished he could’ve seen his teacher’s reaction. On the other, she’d clearly thought this out for too long. She raised an eyebrow.

“What, do you know him or something? Anyway, he said it would be fine, and then you can even protect the dance from the inside. You know how Casper High dances tend to attract ghosts.” She flipped her hair, flashing him another smile. He did know. It was his fault the dance freshman year got wrecked. Well, mostly his fault, and a little bit of Sam and Paulina’s too. He shook off the memory.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” he blurted before she could try to convince him further. The wide-eyed shock on her face, he’d expected - no one told Paulina no. What he didn’t expect was the downcast despondency that swept over her the next moment.

“What I mean is, I - I’m gonna be busy that night,” he covered, then wanted to smack himself. Stupid! Val told you you’ve gotta let her down hard! Maybe he should’ve asked her for tips. After all, she’d been the one to let him down. He’d never turned down a girl in his life, not that he’d had any throwing themselves at him like this before. It was distinctly less pleasant than he’d imagined.

“Oh,” she said, straightening her shoulders and composing herself. “I’m sure you’re very busy, being a hero and all… what exactly do you have plans to do? If you don’t mind me asking. I mean, you can’t know when exactly the ghosts are going to attack our helpless town.”

Crap. Word traps. He hated those. Ghosts, he could simply punch his way through, but he couldn’t exactly do that to his classmate. Not that he wanted to punch Paulina! Gah, he just needed to focus, think his way out of this -

He glanced over at Valerie, hoping for some kind of reassurance. To his surprise, she’d removed the faceplate of her mask to mouth something at him. What, he couldn’t tell; he was no good at reading lips. All he could catch was the word “ghost,” which could’ve meant anything.

Paulina noticed his distraction and looked behind her, and Valerie abruptly shut her mouth. For some reason Paulina still did a double take, her eyes flashing from him, to Valerie, and back as her mouth slowly opened.

“You - wait a second - you know who she is? Without the mask?” Paulina asked. Demanded, more like, with the fire in her eyes. The question caught him completely by surprise, but of course she’d ask that. No one else knew that Phantom and the Red Huntress were friends yet.

“Uhh… yeah?” He admitted. After all, Valerie was right. His lying sucked. Especially when it came to lying to pretty girls.

“And you still let her hunt you? You could have, like, found her and stolen all her equipment, couldn’t you?” Her hands braced against her hips, like his mom would do before grounding him from video games for a week.

“Well - yeah, I guess I could’ve, but she was hunting the bad ghosts, too. Besides, we’re all good now,” he said, hoping to deflect the attention away from Valerie as quickly as possible. She flashed him a grateful smile, which he returned.

“No way. She was just trying to kill you yesterday! How can you just be-!” Paulina’s outburst cut off as quickly as it began. She took a deep breath, forcing a placid smile back onto her face. “Of course, I’m sure it wasn’t hard for a handsome ghost like you to charm her.”

“What?” Valerie exclaimed. Danny nearly choked before his cheeks swelled with laughter.

“You think I charmed - wait, you really think I’m handsome?” A light green blush stained his cheeks. Maybe he wasn’t going to date Paulina, but was there any way he could get that in writing?

“Oh, quit preening,” Valerie snapped, stalking over to them. “Phantom couldn’t charm his way out of a paper bag.”

“Hey,” he pouted, falling into the familiar banter. It helped to distract him from his ex-crush still standing too close. “I’ve charmed my way out of a number of paper bags, thank you very much.”

She rolled her eyes but directed her attention back to Paulina. “The point is, Phantom told you no. Time to leave.”

“You promised me a fair chance, Huntress.” Paulina placed her hands on her hips. To her credit, she didn’t use Valerie’s name, even when it looked obvious that he knew it. “I think a fair chance would involve me talking to Phantom alone, don’t you?”

Danny’s eyes widened. “Uh, I don’t think-”

“No,” Valerie shut her down simply, crossing her arms. “My place, my rules. I’m not leaving.”

“Well, then maybe Phantom could take me for a little flight?” She batted her eyes at him. If he’d had a heartbeat, it would have been racing. As it was, his core was fluctuating, frosting over the concrete beneath his boots. Paulina didn’t seem to notice the chill.

“No,” Valerie answered for him again. As pathetic as it made him seem, he was glad. He was going to have her teach him how to turn people down.

“What are you, his girlfriend?” Paulina scowled. “Let him speak for himself.”

“Um… actually…” He stepped back and tugged at the jumpsuit around his neck.

“Well you sure aren’t!” Valerie snapped, clenching a fist.

“I could be.” Paulina cocked her hip. “What, are you jealous?”

“I’m not-!”

Danny’s eyes flickered between the two girls, wishing he could just fly out of here. He should be at home doing Algebra homework, not dealing with… dealing with… this!

“Stop!” He finally shouted, voice vibrating with the beginnings of a ghostly wail. He wouldn’t let it go that far, but the power in it startled the two girls from their argument.

“I’m not going to the dance with you, Paulina,” he said, channeling the bravery that he normally saved for ghost fights.

“Why not?” She had the audacity to ask back. Almost like she truly couldn’t believe someone would tell her no. Well, he guessed no one had before, but the response still threw him off guard.

“He doesn’t have to-” Valerie began, but he was already blurting the first reply that came to mind.

“I’m dating Valerie.”

Both sets of eyes fixed to his. One wide with shock, another narrowed in disbelief. He wanted to put his fist in his mouth. Stupid, of all the lies he could’ve tried, that was the one he had to spout? He could have made an excuse about being dead. Or literally anything else. Whatever, no choice but to run with it and hope Val would forgive him.

“Uh, what I meant was, I was going to ask Valerie. Now that she’s not trying to kill me.” He grinned nervously, trying to read her expression. The shock had faded, leaving a look that he could only compare to a Blue Screen of Death.

“You - you want to go out with her?” Paulina pointed at the other girl. “But… but you just said she tried to kill you! And - you could go out with me!”

“Lots of people try to kill me. Val’s the best out of all of them.” Wait, that came out wrong. “I mean, the best person. Not the best at killing me. I’m still alive. Well, halfway.” He chuckled.

“Don’t tempt me to finish the job,” Valerie said dangerously. Paulina’s hands shook, looking ready to snap something in half.

“See? She’s not going to go out with you anyway,” she said, reaching for his arm, which he tugged back. “I’m just asking for one date. Please. Phantom, I - you’re the first boy I’ve had a real crush on!”

She covered her mouth, as if surprised she’d let that slip. As flattering as it was, Danny couldn’t let it change his mind. Though he supposed he could let it change his tone.

“I’m sorry, Paulina.” He hesitantly placed a hand on her shoulder. That was more touch than he should’ve risked, but his mind was set now. “It’s too late. I’m sure you’ll meet a nice, alive boy you can go out with.”

“Too late?” She frowned. “What do you mean, if I’d asked before Valerie stopped hunting you, you’d go out with me?”

“No, no, it’s not that,” he backtracked quickly, raising his hands. “I just… uh…” What could he say? That he’d had a crush on her years ago? At least his tongue didn’t betray him that badly. He could only imagine how she’d react to that.

“Nevermind,” she said bitterly, hunching and turning her back on him. “You’re not the hero I thought you were, anyway. Just… take me home.”

Her shoulders drooped. For once, her voice actually sounded defeated. The words cut deeper than he’d expected. Like he was getting rejected by her back in the ninth grade all over again.

“I’ll take you,” Valerie said, her tone surprisingly kind. She jumped, and her board sprouted from her feet; she extended a hand to help Paulina up. The girl pointedly avoided looking towards Danny as they rose into the air.

“We’re going to have a talk about this later, Phantom,” Valerie added with one of her signature intense stares. Danny tried not to flinch back from it.

Great. Just when he’d started to repair their friendship, he’d had to go and ruin it with a stupid lie. He never meant to ask Valerie out… or well, maybe he did, eventually. She’d only broken up with him because of ghost fighting, and now that they were on good terms… only he’d probably gone and ruined that tonight.

So much for charming your way out of a paper bag. He’d managed to cut romantic ties with not just one but three girls in the past month. Paulina was obvious; that had never been a possibility. He and Sam had dated for a few weeks before it just felt too awkward. They’d thought they liked each other romantically, but actually dating felt like walking on eggshells for both of them, never knowing how to interact anymore. Almost like neither of them were really themselves. Breaking up had been mutual, and had somehow left them closer than before, as weird as it sounded. There weren’t any more secret feelings between them. They’d always have each other, no matter what happened, and that was what mattered.

But Valerie… maybe his feelings for her weren’t quite as visceral as what he felt around Paulina, but he did like her. A lot. Especially after how she’d finally quit working with Vlad, and she’d helped Danielle… her heart was always in the right place.

“I do not need to be worrying about this,” he muttered up at the ceiling before turning intangible and flying out.

He’d deal with his conflicted feelings later. Right now he had algebra homework to finish.

XXX

As she glided through the night sky, Valerie tried to ignore the faint sniffles coming from the girl clinging to her waist. Though her helmet filtered out the sound of rushing wind, the faint crying was somehow loud enough to hear. Or maybe she was just imagining the sound because she could feel Paulina shaking behind her.

She’s probably just cold, she reasoned. Paulina wouldn’t really be this distraught over Danny, would she?

“You’re the first boy I’ve had a real crush on!” Was that true? She’d dated plenty of other guys before but… she’d seemed too embarrassed to be lying.

Valerie frowned as sympathy fluttered in her chest. She shouldn’t feel bad for Paulina. Danny didn’t owe her anything. Still, as Paulina’s oversized house came into sight below them, the pitiful feeling in Valerie’s chest grew. She wanted to chalk it up to the sheer awkwardness of seeing Paulina lose her composure, but had a feeling it went deeper than that. It was hard not to relate to another girl getting her heart broken, no matter how much she probably deserved it.

“Hey,” she said carefully, slowing her board to a halt above the sloped roof. “You good?”

“Just peachy,” Paulina snapped, but it didn’t have the same effect while she was still hugging Valerie’s waist.

“Sorry,” she muttered. It had been too long since she’d comforted anyone, and she’d never been great at it in the first place. “Phantom’s right, you know. There’ll be other guys. Alive guys.”

“Easy for you to say,” she sniffed. “Apparently he wants to date you! What did you do to him, Val?”

Her cheeks flushed. That topic was something she’d rather deal with later. What had possessed Danny to blurt that? Of all the stupid excuses he could’ve made… But the real problem was, she couldn’t be entirely sure it was a stupid excuse. Or if she wanted it to be.

Things were just… just too complicated right now.

“I don’t know,” she replied, shaking her head. She hardly even knew what he’d done to her. For all her comment that he couldn’t charm his way out of a paper bag, his neon green blush as he’d asked her out remained imprinted in her mind. It should’ve been just one more sign of Danny’s ghost side, one that she would’ve likely found creepy two days ago, but now…

She sighed. Complicated wasn’t the half of it.

“Come on, you don’t just go from enemies to looking at each other like that overnight. Something happened.” Paulina let go of Valerie and swayed for a bit before getting her balance on her own. It would be safer to put her down on the balcony, but it would be better to keep this conversation on Valerie’s turf, especially now that Paulina was regaining her composure.

“That’s between me and him,” she said definitively, though her mind was divided. Looking at each other like what? Like they were keeping secrets? Because they were, but that had nothing to do with Danny liking her.

“Fine,” Paulina snorted. “But I’ll find out eventually, Gray.”

“I highly doubt that.” Unless Danny decided to tell her his secret, it wasn’t one anyone was going to guess on a whim. “I kept my end of the deal. You promised you’d get off my back.”

“I promised I’d keep my mouth shut,” she replied, raising a finger. Valerie grit her teeth.

“Close enough. You really don’t want to get caught up in my life, anyway. I’m a social outcast, remember? Wouldn’t want to drag you down a few rungs.”

Paulina shrugged. “To get closer to Phantom? I might.”

“Get real, Sanchez. He turned you down. I almost felt sorry for you about that, but I don’t now.”

Anger flashed behind her eyes. “He didn’t - he just… as soon as you break his heart, he’ll come back to me. You’ll see.”

“Right. Are you trying to convince me, or yourself?”

For once, Paulina looked away. Discreetly she tried to wipe her eye, only succeeding in smearing mascara across her hand.

“...You don’t have to rub it in,” she finally replied. “I don’t expect you to get it though.”

“What? Being rejected? Yeah, I can.” Valerie crossed her arms. Did Paulina not remember what she’d done to her? Maybe it wasn’t the same as being rejected by a crush, but she’d been punted out of her only friend group. “Maybe it’s about time someone taught you what that feels like.”

Paulina glared. “I’m not asking for your sympathy. I’m just - I’m going to bed. Put me down.”

Valerie frowned but lowered her board to the balcony, grabbing Paulina’s arm when she lost her balance. She quickly snatched it away and hopped off the board.

“Wait, Paulina…” Valerie found herself saying. The other girl stiffened, her hands clenched to fists at her sides.

“Just shut up, Gray. Just shut up.”

She swallowed the apology that had been forming in her throat. If Paulina didn’t want to play nice, that was her problem.

She spun her board around and jetted into the night.

#tali writes #dancing around the truth #danny phantom #valerie gray #paulina sanchez

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stilesssolo · 7 years ago

Note

You write amazingly! Can you write one with #11 pleeease? Maybe some angst like a drunk confession and then a fight? That would be great! Thank you!

Thank you so much!! I have a feeling this is a little different than the fight and confession you imagined, but… I couldn’t get it out of my head. I hope you like it!!

(Also for the other anon who asked for 11 as well :) )

#11: Things you said when you were drunk

Send me a prompt!

It still felt a little surreal, that they were actually here.

When Scott had promised that this year was going to be different, Stiles had scoffed at his best friend. Sure, his promises sounded nice on paper, but Stiles didn’t really believe things would somehow magically change. Three months into sophomore year and Stiles had yet to stand corrected— despite the Jeep he drove them both to school in now, or the extra lacrosse practices they had put in, they were still very much the outcasts of Beacon Hills High School.

Not that that particularly bothered Stiles. He had Scott, and that was really all that mattered to him. As long as his best friend was still by his side, he could deal with anything else high school threw at them.

But still— Stiles had really thought this was all going to be some sort of sick joke, some prank Jackson was pulling in his usual douchey manner on the weaker players on the team. An hour into Danny’s pre-season party, though, they had yet to encounter any incidents, and Stiles was even sort of having fun. Scott and he never got invited to these types of things— hence, Stiles’s apprehension when Danny had invited them in the first place. Stiles had wanted to skip it altogether, sure there was some joke that they would end up as the punchline of. But despite his shitty taste in best friends, Danny was a pretty good guy, and the excitement in Scott’s eyes at actually being invited to something had forced Stiles to push aside his apprehensions and go to the party with his friend.

Danny did know how to throw a good party, that he had to admit. Stiles had never particularly been a fan of parties— social anxiety, and all that— but this one was more than tolerable, and everyone else seemed to be greatly enjoying themselves. It looked like the whole school was at his house, music thumping and making the walls practically vibrate. Scott and he had spent most of their time here with the other not-so-great lacrosse players, laughing and drinking and having fun, while avoiding Jackson and his clique as much as possible. So far, that was going pretty well— it was clear that the only reason that the rest of the team had been invited was because technically, it was a lacrosse team party, and Jackson seemed to want as little to do with the rest of the team as they did with Jackson.

Stiles was tempting fate, though, by continuously looking over at him. Not that it was Jackson he was interested in— no, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from the girl at his side.

“You’re staring again,” Scott informed him, nudging Stiles with his elbow. Stiles turned towards his best friend, away from Jackson and Lydia on the couch, over on the other side of the room. “Stop looking. It’s just gonna make you feel worse.”

Stiles sighed, immediately ignoring his best friend’s advice and turning to look at Lydia again. She was practically in Jackson’s lap, her short dress riding up as she leaned over to whisper something in his ear. His hand rested on her thigh possessively, that smug grin still tugging at his lips as Lydia nudged his ear with her nose, her smile pretty and seductive. Seeing her with Jackson always aggravated the hell out of him, because Stiles knew Jackson didn’t appreciate the incredible girl he was dating as much as she deserved. He didn’t think anyone actually knew how brilliant Lydia was, behind that ditzy popular-girl facade. But Stiles saw the tests she snuck into her bag in Bio and Calculus when she thought no one was looking, and he knew she was so much smarter than everyone gave her credit for.

“Why is she with him?” he asked Scott, voice low, although the question was mainly rhetorical. “He’s such an ass. She can do so much better.”

“It’s like you always say,” Scott replied, sipping from his red solo cup. “Beautiful people flock together. But seriously, Stiles,” Scott continued. “Forget about it. There’s nothing you can do, and you’re just making yourself miserable.”

Grudgingly, Stiles agreed, turning back to the other lacrosse players Scott was talking to— other sophomores who were not as athletically inclined as people like Jackson and Danny. More time passed, and he forgot about Lydia. Mostly.

He didn’t really remember until much later, on a mission to refill his and Scott’s drinks. Not that Stiles was allowed to drink anymore at this point, because he’d promised to drive Scott home, and if his dad had to leave work to pick them up he’d be grounded for the rest of the year. Danny’s house was enormous, and Stiles had only ever been there once or twice before. He’d had no issue finding another cheap beer for Scott, but water— that was proving more difficult to find.

Finally, Stiles located the kitchen and the fridge, sighing in relief at the water dispenser on the front door. He put Scott’s beer on the counter, leaning against the fridge as he filled up his cup, staring aimlessly into the adjacent dining room. This area of the house was much more deserted, which was probably the way Danny wanted it. The gleaming wood of the dining room table and the creamy carpet covering the floor looked like it would be easily ruined if the partygoers did wander in.

Which was why he was surprised when he heard approaching footsteps, followed by sharp voices.

It took him about two seconds to recognize Jackson’s voice, because he was using that same condescending, annoyed tone he used on everyone at lacrosse practice. But it was the voice that followed, tearful and distressed, that made Stiles freeze, going silent and slinking to the side of the fridge, remaining out of sight.

“Just shut up!” Jackson snapped, entering the dining room and turning around, facing the doorway. He didn’t notice Stiles, still frozen in the kitchen. “Okay, Lydia? Just drop it!”

“Drop it?” Lydia snapped back, her hands poised on her hips angrily. Even from his spot, Stiles could see the fire in her eyes. “You want me to just ignore the fact that you’re blatantly checking out other girls while I’m with you?”

“Yes,” he replied, tone dangerous, “because it doesn’t mean anything! It’s not a big deal!”

“It is to me, okay?” Lydia retorted. “I’m your girlfriend, and I don’t appreciate— Jackson!” she snapped again, her voice almost desperate as she tried to get his attention. Stiles could hear the distress in her tone; he knew she was trying so hard to maintain that facade, and it was cracking anyways.

“Could you look at me?” she demanded.

“I don’t know what you want me to do, Lydia!” he spat.

Lydia huffed, a humorless laugh escaping her lips. “How about listen to me? Treat me like a goddamn human being? I’m not just some possession you can tote around, okay?”

“Are you sure about that?” Jackson retorted, and Stiles wanted nothing more in that moment than to run at Jackson and punch him in the face.

Lydia fell silent, crossing her arms, making herself smaller. When she did speak, her voice had lost its fire, and she sounded on the brink of breaking down.

“You know what, I don’t care. Go screw Abigail, for all I care. I’m so fucking done dealing with you.”

Jackson huffed, stalking out of the dining room, leaving Lydia by herself. She remained frozen, her arms still crossed tightly over her chest. Stiles didn’t know what to do— he wanted to comfort her, tell her she deserved better, tell her she was amazing, that she shouldn’t have to put up with Jackson’s bullshit— but still, he couldn’t bring himself to walk forward, paralyzed by nerves or fear or… he didn’t know. His stomach churned and his heart ached for this poor, broken girl in front of him, but still, he couldn’t move.

Lydia unfroze then, uncrossing her arms and shaking her head slightly, like she was trying to forget what had just happened. Stiles watched as she ran a finger under her eye, brushing away a tear, before grabbing the drink she’d set on the table next to her and downing the whole thing in one sip. She tossed the empty cup in the trash can by the door, then stalked out of the dining room, her heels clicking on the wooden floors of the hallway.

Then, Stiles could finally move again.

He went and found Scott, who had begun to worry about where his friend had gone off to, handing him his beer absentmindedly. Stiles’s eyes surfed the crowd, and while he located Jackson, with some blonde freshman girl pressed up against him, he didn’t see Lydia anywhere.

“What is up with you, dude?” Scott said nearly an hour later, tearing Stiles from his routine search of the crowd for a flash of strawberry blonde hair. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” Stiles said, though his attention wasn’t completely on Scott. He caught a glimpse of red hair, a flash of a blue dress that looked like the one Lydia had on across the dance floor, and he finally fully turned to Scott. His best friend was looking at him in concern, his eyes asking a question Stiles desperately did not want to answer.

“I just need some air,” he said quickly, stepping away from the group of lacrosse players. “Uh, I’ll be back.” He just caught a glimpse of the look Scott was giving him before he was off, pushing through the crowd on the dancefloor and following where he thought Lydia had gone.

He ended up in the deserted kitchen again, no sign of Lydia. His eyes must have been playing tricks on him, convincing him he was seeing things he wasn’t. Sighing, he wandered into the dining room, remembering how small and defeated Lydia had looked after Jackson had yelled at her. Jesus, he was such an idiot. Why hadn’t he done anything?

Stiles turned, defeated, to return to Scott in the other room, but through the glass sliding door, something caught his eye.

Lydia was sitting on the patio steps, strawberry blonde curls tumbling down her back and a half-empty bottle of liquor sitting next to her.

Without even thinking, Stiles walked over to the door, pulling it open slowly and stepping onto the patio. She immediately turned to look at him, her green eyes bleary and bloodshot, faint tear tracks running down her cheeks. The cold November breeze made him shiver in his hoodie, but before he could stop himself, he took another step closer to Lydia.

“Are you okay?” he asked her gently, despite the fact that she was clearly not okay.

“Stiles,” she slurred, eyes narrowing, and she raised one finger to point at him shakily. Jesus, she was really drunk. But he was a little taken aback that she knew his name— granted, they had gone to school together since kindergarten, but with the different circles they ran in… it still took him by surprise. His heart thumped erratically at the sound of his name on her lips, and Stiles swallowed, trying to calm his racing pulse.

“You know my name?” he asked her, tentatively sitting down next to her on the steps. She raised an eyebrow at him, a look of disbelief on her face.

“You’re in Bio with me,” she supplied. “And you always get yelled at for talking to the guy next to you.”

That made sense, because Scott sat next to him in Bio.

Lydia shivered, running one hand over her arm, goosebumps indicating how cold she was. Stiles hesitated, thinking of slipping his sweatshirt off. He wanted to give it to her, but would that freak her out, or make her mad? She was letting him sit next to her. Then again, she was really drunk right now.

“Are you okay?” Stiles settled on, repeating his previous question. Lydia looked at him, her expression skeptical.

“Why do you care?” she asked, and it broke Stiles’s heart to realize she wasn’t used to people caring about her wellbeing. She may have lots of pretty, popular friends, but Stiles was pretty sure none of them knew what Lydia was really like.

He almost huffed in laughter at himself, at the presumption that he knew what Lydia was really like. He only had what he observed, what he picked up on when no one else was looking. Even so, he still felt like he knew more about this girl than any of the people she generally spent her time with cared to learn.

“I was worried about you,” Stiles responded, finally deciding to just go with the truth. Chances were she wouldn’t remember any of this anyways.

“Why?” she demanded, her green eyes focused solely on him.

“I… saw your fight with Jackson,” Stiles admitted, and at his words, Lydia’s shoulders sagged, her whole body curling in on itself, making her smaller. He saw the light sort of fade from her eyes, her expression glaze over, as she stared across Danny’s backyard, her lips in a thin line. The illuminated pool lapped silently in the chilly breeze, and the reflection from the turquoise water made her face look even paler.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop— I was in the kitchen,” Stiles quickly interjected, worrying now that she would assume he had been stalking her or something. His heart was still beating too fast; clearly he was still in shock from sitting this close to Lydia freaking Martin. Their knees were practically touching, and Stiles thought he might actually pass out if she got any closer.

“He does that all the time,” Lydia said, her voice low and her words a little slurred. “Looks at other girls when I’m with him.” She shook her head slightly, still staring at the pool. “I should just let it go.”

“No,” Stiles immediately responded. He wanted to continue— tell her how incredible she was, how she deserved better than Jackson, deserved someone who would care about her, think about her, treat her with respect— but he found his words stuck in his throat. Even though she was drunk, even though she probably wouldn’t remember any of this, he still couldn’t bring himself to admit his feelings to her. Partly because he was scared, but partly because that would make this about him. And Lydia didn’t deserve that.

“I should,” Lydia mused, sighing exaggeratedly, resting her chin in her hand, elbow propped on her knee. “It’s just so much easier when Jackson’s not mad. So much less tiring.”

Stiles swallowed, his heartbeat still frantic. He didn’t know what to say, so he just stayed quiet, letting her know he would listen if she wanted to talk.

“I’m just… so sick of feeling invisible,” she said, sighing. Her voice was small and lonely. “Jackson never looks at me. My friends never care about me. Everyone knows who I am, but no one knows me.”

Stiles sat frozen, shocked by her words. It struck him how he still didn’t really know this girl. They’d gone to school together for years; he had been in love with her since the third freaking grade, had always listened and paid attention to her, but he didn’t really know this person beside him at all. He knew she was smart, and he assumed the people that she surrounded herself with were too selfish to be counted on, but it broke his heart to hear how lonely she was. Lydia Martin, queen bee of school, felt like she had no one in the world.

Stiles wanted to fix that, somehow, but he didn’t have the slightest clue how.

Lydia shivered in the chilly night air again, and Stiles tugged off his hoodie this time. He didn’t know how to make Lydia feel not so alone, but he guessed that the least he could do was try to be here for her, in this moment.

“Here,” he said, offering her the sweatshirt. She just regarded him, eyes still glazed, before she hiccuped loudly, reminding Stiles exactly how intoxicated she was.

This isn’t anything special, his brain reminded him. Don’t let this go to your head, or think this means she cares about you. She’s just drunk and upset and you’re available.

Regardless, Lydia took his sweatshirt hesitantly, wrapping herself in it. It swallowed her whole, and Stiles’s heart sped up even more, looking at the girl of his dreams wrapped in his hoodie.

“I’m sorry,” Stiles offered again, looking at Lydia. She looked so small, huddled up here on the steps. So human. It lowered the pedestal he had her up on, just the smallest bit, seeing her this vulnerable. “Jackson’s an ass.”

Lydia laughed drunkenly at that, her curls bobbing up and down as she nodded. “Yeah, he is,” she agreed. “But I probably deserve that.” She sighed again. “And I love him.”

Stiles had been about to cut in, about to tell her she absolutely didn’t deserve that, but her last statement made him freeze. Like it or not, Lydia was with Jackson, and there was nothing he could do to change that, as much as he wished he could. And anyways, it wasn’t like Lydia was going to leave Jackson for him.

Still, regardless of how he felt about her— Stiles just wished she could be happy.

“Thanks, Stiles,” she sighed, turning her head to look at him. Stiles gulped, meeting her gaze— even glazed over, her green eyes were the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She gave him a little smile, warm and grateful, and his heart practically leapt out of his chest. “Thanks for listening.”

“Of course,” Stiles said, automatically. Anything he could possibly do to make Lydia feel better, to help her realize how absolutely incredible she was, how much she deserved in this world— anything he could do, he would do it. And if that meant sitting next to her on Danny’s back steps in the chilly November air and comforting her while she was drunk… Stiles would happily do that every day, every minute, for the rest of his life.

#stydia #stydia fic #my writing #fic prompts #teen wolf #i still don't know how I feel about this #but I couldn't get the idea to leave me alone #also; in case you were wondering #Stiles absolutely drives Lydia home after this because Jackson is off with someone else #and she keeps stiles's sweatshirt #she sleeps in it that night because its warm and comfy and smells good #and she never really knows where this sweatshirt came from because it's nothing jackson would ever wear and she doesnt remember that night #but it becomes her go-to comfort clothes whenever she's feeling crappy #Stiles notices this when they get closer between seasons 5 and 6 and almost passes out #and she goes completely red when she realizes its HIS and he tells her how he gave it to her that night #but she never stops wearing it #Stiles not so secretly loves it #ANYWAYS #asks #answered #anonymous

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soledadgeek · 8 years ago

Text

Masterlist of Awesome - Part 3 (Other Fandoms)

Hello everyone! It’s been a while! But here’s a new rec list ;) Although, for the Sterek fans following me, this is strictly other fandoms, sorry. Been away from Sterek in a while and that’s the result! Here’s a listing of what you’ll find!

Merlin / Merthur

Suits / Marvey

Supernatural / Destiel / SamxDean / SamxDeanxCas

White Collar / Peter/Neal/Elizabeth

James Bond (Daniel Craig’s) / 00Q

London Spy / Alex/Danny

Fandom: James Bond (Daniel Craig’s) Pairing : 00Q

Temeraire by professorfangirl (lizeckhart) / 8858 w. / E

"At Bond’s age anything like love was trapped and walled away, a scorpion under a glass; what he felt now was like the fire at Skyfall, filtered through icewater light. And yet it was there, it was possible: one more reckless leap, one more deadshot fall, one more defiance of loss. It was there, waiting in the way Q’s eyes lingered on him, the intelligent desire in their depths, patient, saying, 'we have almost all the time in the world'."

Does Your Mother Know? by sorion / 17561 w. / M

“He told me… that he’d loved and trusted people with his life before, and that it didn’t end well. And he told me… that he would trust me with his life… and his death.”

“Wow. Now I don’t know which one of you to warn off of breaking the other’s heart, anymore.”

The Inevitability of Time by dhampir72 for missMHO / 27055 w. / M

When they meet for the first time at the National Gallery, Bond has a strange sense of deja vu.

For the 00QNewYearParty as a gift for missMHO.

Mister Kiss Kiss Bang Bang by sorion / 31571 w. / M

Despite Bond making a kind of running joke out of Q’s “exploding pen” remark by requesting one at every opportunity… it was Q who mentioned it first. The reason behind it is quite simple. They both like to blow shit up. And then they realise that that's not the only thing they have in common.

Denominations by WriteThroughTheNight/ 33299 w. / Series / T

Part 1: Denominations by WriteThroughTheNight

"Q confirms that he's an Empath three months before his first day of primary school, and the deciding of Denominations that comes with it."

OR Q is smarter than anyone gives him credit for, and an Empath to boot.

The Haunting of Skyfall Lodge by BootsnBlossoms, Kryptaria for shipimpala / 36522 w. / E

All his life, Q has seen ghosts. For years, he's searched for scientific proof to back up what he knows to be true. Finally, he starts a YouTube channel to chronicle his adventures of exploring haunted sites. His latest location: Skyfall Lodge.

Yours, J by swtalmnd / 41104 w. / Series / G to E

Part 1 : Yours, J by swtalmnd

Bond sends letters. Q is vexed. Q-branch starts a betting pool. There are an appalling amount of sweets. Also, 002 is a bit of an arse.

Alley-Cat Quartermaster by Only_1_Truth for MinMu / 41274 w. / M

This all started with a conversation with my Queen of Plotbunnies and Paladin of Writer's-Block Slaying, MinMu: So many fics include Bond breaking into Q's flat. What if it was the other way around?

Summary: After the death of M, everything is in shambles. MI6 is trying to stay afloat and not let its enemies scent blood in the water; the new Quartermaster is orchestrating a flurry of activity to keep his branch at pique efficiency and therefore his agents alive; 007, the agent hit hardest by the death of the old M, is going through the motions and throwing himself into his work. Everyone is a little bit broken, and a lot exhausted. So when Bond and Q end up together in unexpected circumstances, perhaps the outcome should not be so unexpected...

Ordinary Numbers by BootsnBlossoms, Kryptaria / 44 175 w. / T

More than anything, Mike Taylor wanted to be ordinary. Being a genius, he learned early in life, meant people expected too much. A career at the MI6 Help Desk seemed the perfect way to guarantee a lifetime of obscurity, until he got a very unusual tech support call.

Bewitched by BootsnBlossoms, Kryptaria for Jennybel75 / 51888 w. / M

A few months after the Skyfall incident, Q's sister gives him the excuse he needs to finally take a last-minute holiday at her cottage in Wales, but a priority two security threat means Q can't go alone. For James Bond, the choice between a visit to Psych to discuss overwork or two weeks in the countryside is no choice at all — especially not with the lure of his enigmatic young Quartermaster as a companion. Then again, 'enigmatic' doesn't even begin to cover the truth of who the Quartermaster really is.

Perfect Fit by saturn_in_retrograde / 53189 w. / E

Two men. Three continents. Ten cities. Twelve months. Time and trouble enough to fall in love. In which Q sweeps James off his feet with his awkward flirting, genius intellect, smart mouth, sexy librarian cardigans, raunchy sense of humor...and those red, red lips like cherries.

Mercenary by BootsnBlossoms, Kryptaria / 66075 w. / E

Five years ago, Commander James Bond of Her Majesty's Royal Navy left England in disgrace, escaping a court martial -- and what should have been a promising career in MI6 with Alec Trevelyan, his oldest friend. He becomes a mercenary, selling his military expertise to the highest bidder, though not once does he act against England or her interests. Now, new intelligence has possibly located Bond in the United States, and Alec is tasked with the mission to bring him back to MI6. But to do so will require a very unique type of field operative -- one Bond will never suspect. Enter Aidan Green, codename Q.

Brave New World by ForzaDelDestino / 70581 w. / No Rating

After the events at Skyfall, life was different for Agent 007. M was gone—no, there was a new M. There was a new Headquarters. He had a new flat, in which he was still unpacking boxes of belongings. And--bloody hell!--an associate of Raoul Silva had materialised. Then there was the matter of that new, young Q…a lanky, bespectacled boy with a mop of dark hair, who was in serious need of an attitude adjustment...and far too wary when it came to what Bond had in mind for him.

[References to quotes from Skyfall and one or two much earlier James Bond films.]

Quriosity by dr_girlfriend/ 82391 w. / Series / 82391 / E

Part 1 : Quriosity by dr_girlfriend

COMPLETE! Bond finds himself increasingly curious about his enigmatic Quartermaster.

Excerpt: "Your prior hotel is no longer secure, I will direct you to a new location. Your luggage has already been transferred. A field agent and medic from the Diréction Générale de la Sécurité d'État will be waiting at the side entrance. I have cleared them both personally." In contrast to his crisp dry English, Q's pronunciation of the French words was fluid and flawless, the throaty tone of the fricatives sending a surprising jolt of awareness straight to Bond's cock — all the more remarkable given his degree of blood loss. "You're wasted on Q-branch, you have the voice for a phone-sex call-in line." The words slipped out of Bond's mouth without forethought, although he had plenty of time to think in the sudden pause that came afterward and stretched on for endless moments. Bond hadn't realized until now how Q was always there, with an immediate reply. In all their banter Q had never before been at a loss for words. Ever.

Red Queen to Overwatch by BootsnBlossoms, Kryptaria / 86175 w. / M

After returning from the dead, James Bond moves into a new secure flat, only to find that his new neighbour is either: a scruffy teenager, a brilliant computer geek, a mad scientist, or the sexiest genius he's ever met. Two of these things turn out to be true. Well, three, once the Red Queen gets involved.

Blue-Eyed Monster by Only_1_Truth / 118361 w. / M

Yes, this version of 007 was a terrifyingly smart agent, and M wondered long and often whether it had been a good idea to promote him to the position. Usually, the title was the dangerous part - being 007 meant deadliness - but this time, M feared that a certain man with ice-blue eyes and scruffy blonde hair had dragged in more danger to the title than it had previously possessed.

Enter MI6's new Quartermaster: an unassuming, bespectacled genius with no mind for subterfuge but plenty of genius behind a dry smile. Curious 00-agents and young boffins don't always mix in predictable ways...

The Love Song of James Bond by Fightyourdragon / 204 407 w. / Series / E

Part 1 : The Love Song of James Bond by Fightyourdragon

“Knowing your history, and adding to it the fact that I am not entirely unaffected by sharing a bed with you, I think it would be pointless to pretend that we are going to able to share this house for the next two weeks without fucking over every available surface.” Q smiles at the look of shock on James’ face. Clearly he hadn’t been expecting such a direct approach and Q presses on before he has a chance to recover. “However, when it happens it will happen on my terms.” There was definitely a significant gap between the time Bond was breaking down over M's death in the chapel to the time a confident Bond walked into Mallory's office to accept his newest assignment. What, or more importantly, who, put him back together again? Basically, lots of porn with plot.

Fandom: James Bond (Daniel Craig’s) and Sherlock Pairing : 00Q, Sherlock/John Watson

The Love Affair of Willoughby Holmes and James Bond by LadyRa / 31057 w. / Series / G to T

Part 1 : Why Mycroft Worries Constantly About His Youngest Brother or How Willoughby Holmes Wooed and Won the Heart of James Bond by LadyRa

The youngest Holmes holds a minor position at MI6, but somehow still manages to do more damage than Mycroft at his worst.

Post Skyfall AU, Q is a little younger and a tad more innocent, and Alec is a good guy and still alive.

Reichenbach Falls didn't (and won't) happen.

Fandom: James Bond (Daniel Craig’s) and London Spy Pairing : 00Q, Danny Holt/Alex Turner

*If you don’t know London Spy, please go watch it, if only because Ben Wishaw’s in it and awesome as usual!!!

Face of Innocence by FaerieChild / 6268 w. / T

During difficult times, James Bond retreats to the Mediterranean island of Corsica and the home built for his late wife Theresa di Vicenzo. Onto his private beach stumbles a young man who is clearly a lost soul. Both have known loss, both know what it is to feel alone and in that first moment, something nameless sparks between them.

The Truth of Truths by blackidyll / 8747 w. / No Rating

For weeks, Q has no idea who the man with a permanent bed in MI6 Medical is. Well. More that he doesn’t quite understand the significance of Alistair Turner, why MI6 decides to keep him within headquarters instead of transporting him to another facility, one more suited to caring for a coma patient. Then M gives Q orders to find a program created by a certain MI6 cryptanalyst, a program now in the Security Service’s possession, with strictly worded instructions to scour it from existence. And Q understands.

A London Spy/James Bond crossover where Q and Danny are entirely separate people and they lead their lives as they did in the series and the movies. The key here is that Alex works for Bond and Q's MI6 - the one portrayed in Spectre and headed by M(allory).

Secrets, Spies, and Family Ties by Brihna / 37778 w. / M (Series but I only liked part 1)

When Danny Holt shows up on Q's doorstep, he is unprepared for the tale he has to tell. Is MI6 really responsible for the death of Danny's partner, or is there more to these strange happenings than meets the eye? Q must decide just how far he is willing to go to help his brother find the truth.

Fandom: London Spy Pairing : Danny Holt/Alex Turner

*If you don’t know London Spy, please go watch it, if only because Ben Wishaw’s in it and awesome as usual!!!

It's more than what it cost you by Teatrolley / 1916 w. / No Rating

Alex loves Danny’s sweaters, but he also loves Danny in the suits, and the secretiveness of the bee-printed socks and sunflower-printed pants he’s wearing underneath them. Danny wears the sweaters less, but it’s all right, because Alex learns to love this new side of him, too.

__ What Alex means, during the soulmate conversation, is that love has to be adaptive to last. His is, but is Danny's too? Alex isn't sure.

Supersymmetry by drinkbloodlikewine, whiskeyandspite for GulliverJ / 24335 w. / M

Alex holds his hands in Danny’s hair, placing a kiss against his brow. It will have to suffice as apology for now, surely the first of many. He doesn’t wait a moment more than that, however, despite how badly he wants to feel Danny close to him, despite the frequency at which they vibrate together. Their waves must propagate faster, first, rising in pitch before they can settle to low and comfortable quiet. Alex fakes his own death and he and Danny leave London to finish his work elsewhere.

A story of a scientist and a romantic, speaking different languages and saying the exact same thing.

Fandom: James Bond (Daniel Craig’s) and White Collar Pairing : 00Q, Peter/Elizabeth/Neal

Whoever Fights Monsters by circ_bamboo, feelslikefire / 107327 w. / E / (Series but I preferred this part)

"Should I start, or would you like to?" Neal asked Q.

"Are you going to draw this out?" Q said. "It's really quite simple. Some years ago, before MI6, before Neal's little bond mishap—"

"Alleged bond mishap," Neal said—mostly out of reflex, Q thought.

"You were convicted by a jury of your peers," Q said. "It's somewhat less alleged at this point. Nonetheless, before . . . that, Neal and I . . . were acquainted."

Or: When Q hears that the FBI is bringing one Neal Caffrey to British soil for an investigation, he's fully expecting trouble with a capital T.

Naturally, what he gets is much worse: par for the course when you're dating James Bond and you're old friends with an international art thief.

Fandom: White Collar Pairing : Peter/Elizabeth/Neal

your favorite old-fashioned fairytale romance by sinead / 12443 w. / E

Such a small touch, that whisper of skin against skin.

Perfect Beautiful Good by OnYourMark / 16201 w. / E

Neal Caffrey doesn't know it, but he's probably the best thing that ever happened to Peter and Elizabeth's sex life.

Never Leave A Trace by copperbadge/ 16664 w. / E

Neal Caffrey can steal souls. Peter Burke has two shadows. Everything's normal...except when it isn't.

The Love Nest by china_shop / 17488 w. / E

Neal came into Peter's office and closed the door after him. He seemed pensive.

"Um, Peter?"

"What?" Peter looked up, caught himself blushing, and looked back down at his paperwork. "What is it?"

"Your wife just asked me out on a date," said Neal.

Fandom: Supernatural Pairing : Destiel

Famil(iarit)y by Niitza / 14914 w. / G

Deep down Dean always knew, from the moment that skinwalker bit him all those years ago, that this is how he'd end up: a stray, unwanted by dad - who stopped seeing him as anything else than a watchdog for Sam a long time ago -, and unwanted by Sam - who wanted him to be anything but.

So here he is, with nothing but his own senses and fangs to keep himself safe and fed, with nothing but his own hide to keep himself warm. And winter's just getting started. Fortunately, he's found the right kind of town to get through it, the right neighborhood to pilfer until the worst is past. Even, maybe, the right house.

Skazka - A Woodland Fairytale by Angrysouffle, Nishka / 17786 w. / E

Satyr Dean's seemingly idyllic existence of getting drunk and debauching virgins is chanllenged when he meets Dryad Cas. Friction and embarassing leaf munching ensues. Throw in a half-Demonling brother who is keen to look up tree sex in the lore and Cas' suspiciously sexy sensing root, Dean is about to take phallic worship to a new level. Will this unlikely couple find their happily ever after?

The Lonely Sea and The Sky by whelvenwings / 23212 w. / G

When Dean, a little lost and a little lonely, finds himself wishing on a star one night, he doesn't expect anything to come of it, and certainly not for the star in question to fall right out of the sky.

The very last thing that he could have possibly anticipated is Castiel - winged, angry and looking for the grace that he lost in the fall, so that he can get back to Heaven. Dean's a little fascinated by Castiel, and Castiel is intrigued by Dean and his seafaring life. But Castiel has to go back to Heaven, and finding the grace has to be his first priority, even though it often seems he would rather put Dean first.

But Dean knows it's foolish to hope. After all, a bird may fall in love with a fish - but where would they live?

The Mirror by cloudyjenn / 24568 w. / M

When Dean touches a strange mirror, he's whisked away to one alternate reality after another and it doesn't take him long to realize the universe is trying to tell him something.

When Charlie Met Cas by riseofthefallenone / 24666 w. / M

Charlie is back in all her glory. The Winchesters have showed up on her doorstep and she’s making the best of it the only way she knows how. By being the little sister Dean never wanted and shipping the shit out of Destiel.

There Might Have Been a Time by SailorChibi for Mirenithil / 24692 w. / E

Like everyone else Dean has always looked forward to his 21st birthday, when his countdown timer would appear and tell him how much longer he had until he met his soul mate. And at least then he would know whether or not he was an alpha like John always wanted, even though the name of his soul mate was written in a weird language he couldn't read.

But then it actually happened, and Dean was positive he actually met his soul mate... unless that was a dream.

On the other hand, as the years go by and his countdown ticks away, the increased strength and vision, lack of a need for food or sleep, and weird new growths on his back that seem to be growing feathers(?!) suggest otherwise...

The Request by cloudyjenn / 36770 w. / M

When Sam Winchester prays for his brother, Castiel is finally sent on his very first assignment. But what should be a simple love match turns into much more and Castiel finds himself risking everything to ensure the happiness of his extremely frustrating charge.

An Accidental Incubus by jupiter_james / 39969 w. / E

On a hunt gone wrong, Dean finds himself cursed to be an incubus. While Sam and Charlie rush to find a cure before the change is permanent, Castiel decides to become Dean's "offering" when the hunter begins to deteriorate under the effects of the change.

The Souls of Men by nagapdragon/ 40641 w. / E (Also Sabriel)

Sam hates that moment in an exorcism, right after the demon leaves, when the daemon explodes into a puff of gold and they know they’ve failed one more person. Every time they finish a job where someone doesn’t make it, Aurora curls around Machaera in a silent reminder that far too soon, they’ll have to watch Machaera turn to a pile of gold dust, too.

Starting in Season 3 and moving on through the timeline.

Try-Something Tuesday by almaasi / 48284 w. / E

Human AU. Dean Winchester teaches a third-grade class. He's new to this whole ‘bisexual’ thing - but by pure happenstance, he meets Castiel: a particularly dapper male librarian who moonlights as a substitute teacher. Dean's curious and Castiel is willing, so why the hellnot?

Except, fate never intended it to be one-time-only... (with art by valiantparadox)

The Prophet Must Die by imogenbynight / 54455 w. / M

"What about Castiel? He seems helpful... and dreamy."

Something about the comment just isn't sitting right, and Dean's jaw twitches. He stares at the wall in the dark, and at a quarter past four in the morning, it hits him.

"Asshole," Dean hisses under his breath, sitting up straight, "that sonofabitch kept publishing."

In All Your Borrowed Finery by vanishingact / 67950 w. / E (Equal part Sabriel!!)

Dean finds an interesting symbol in Kevin's angel tablet notes and, against Sam's counselling, uses it in the heat of battle with a pair of angelic assassins. Side effects include pain, disorientation, and uncontrollable new appendages for the Winchesters. A disgruntled Castiel and a delighted Gabriel show up to help. Hunting (and life) gets interesting when wings are involved.

Includes artwork! (Both relationships are featured in detail, but the plot happens to be *slightly* more Sabriel-driven.)

Forget-Me-Not Blues by noangelsinthegarrison / 68689 w. / E

Sam and Jess are getting married and Dean couldn’t be any happier for them. Honestly, they’re kind of disgustingly perfect for each other and Dean’s pretty damn excited about staying with them the week before the wedding. He’s Sam’s best man, of course, and he doesn’t even mind that Jess has her own best man to share in all the organisational duties. The more the merrier, right?

Except Dean must have done something to epically piss off the universe because Jess’s best man just happens to be Castiel friggin’ Novak. He’s got even hotter since High School, but apparently no friendlier and if Cas wants to spend the week pretending like they’ve never met before? Fine. Two can play at that game.

How (thanks to Gabriel) Dean and Castiel (accidentally) raised each other (and Sam). by Vera (Vera_DragonMuse) / 69693 w. / E (Also Sabriel)

In which, Gabriel meddles with the time line and Castiel becomes Dean's angel rather sooner than intended.

How (thanks to Gabriel) Dean and Castiel (accidentally) raised each other (and Sam). by Vera (Vera_DragonMuse) / 69693 w. / E (Also Sabriel)

In which, Gabriel meddles with the time line and Castiel becomes Dean's angel rather sooner than intended.

All the Way by cadignan, Guu / 80919 w. / E

Castiel spends the first two weeks of college in much the same way he spent the previous years: alone with his books. He’s fine with it—he enrolled in college to learn, after all. Then in his first chemistry lab, he has the bad luck of being paired with snide, good-for-nothing Ruby, and the further misfortune of sitting behind Dean Winchester, the world’s most beautiful distraction.

Ruby catches Castiel staring at Dean and makes him an offer.

Have Love, Will Travel by squeemonster/ 94054 w. / E

Castiel Novak is a reclusive writer with a childhood so tragic it's left him terrified to leave his home—until his overbearing brother, Gabriel, drags him out for a night on the town full of booze and strip clubs, and he encounters Dean Winchester, a mesmerizing and mysterious stripper with secrets of his own. Both men find themselves inexplicably drawn to each other, and soon Dean's private dances for Castiel become much more, as both men confess their troubles and find solace in each other's company. But neither can seem to find the courage to take their relationship further than the intimacy of the club's VIP Room—and just when Dean's own brother gives him the excuse he needs to finally admit his feelings, Dean discovers something that brings it all crumbling down. Will they find a way past their demons and their trust issues, and back to each other?

The Best Years of Our Lives, My Ass by ireallyhatecornnuts (CharleyFoxtrot) / 110801 w. / E

AU after Season 8, episode 6, "Southern Comfort."

Dean goes to sleep in a motel room in Texarkana, and he wakes up 17 years old, in his childhood bedroom in Lawrence, Kansas, 1996. He has no idea how he got there, why his parents are still alive, why his brother is an adorable freshman with no memory of his adult life, and why the only ally he has in this place is the angel he left behind in Purgatory – somehow also 17 years old. They have to get out, that's the important thing. Only, falling in love with his angel wasn't a part of the plan....

Kiss the Baker by Ltleflrt/ 115159 w. / Series / M and E (ltleflrt.tumblr.com)

Part 1 : Kiss the Baker by Ltleflrt

Jo is pregnant and craving something a little bit unusual. When she sends Dean on a mission to find her some chocolate cake donuts with bacon sprinkles, he's sure that he'll fail. Luckily his partner Benny comes to his rescue and introduces him to a quirky little bakery that sells all kinds of weird (and delicious!) baked goods. And they do special orders! Dean finds excuses to keep going back, and Castiel finds excuses to keep giving him special treats.

Cursed Or Not by Ltleflrt / 115223 w. / E (ltleflrt.tumblr.com)

While experimenting with magic when he was a kid, Sam accidentally cursed Dean. Now, Dean is forced to wear a spelled amulet constantly, or he'll turn into a random animal. For a little over a decade, he's learned to live with the curse, and has even found it useful in some cases, but he sure would be happier without it.

When he meets a witch named Castiel, he's offered a deal. Instead of assuming all witches are bad, Dean can spend a season getting to know him. If at the end of the season, Dean still thinks he's evil Castiel will send him away with his memory wiped of the whole experience. But if he learns that Castiel is not the monster Dean assumes he is, he'll lift Dean's curse. It's an offer Dean can't bring himself to pass up.

Hooked On Your Love by Ltleflrt/ 122217 w. / Series / E (ltleflrt.tumblr.com)

Part 1: Addicted To You by Ltleflrt

Dean is a Warlock. A very very drunk Warlock. Oh, and a horny Warlock. Hey, he knows how to summon a succubus! He should totally do that. Hell yeah! Guaranteed hot sex! Except that spellcasting while drunk is a Very Bad Idea. He's just too drunk to remember that.

Painted Angels 'verse by WinJennster / 133969 w. / Series / All Ratings

Part 1 : Painted Angels by WinJennster for ANobleCompanion

Author Castiel Novak has finally hit the big time, with a book based on his failed college relationship with a brilliant painter. He's put all his pain behind him, but at a book signing, he comes face to face with Dean Winchester for the first time in twelve years, and the reunion doesn't go like Cas hoped.

Dean's a broken man, with a lot of scars and secrets, shoulders weighed down by his demons and self loathing. Cas sees a second chance with the man he's never stopped loving, but Dean's moved on, and is about to get married. Sam launches a "brilliant" plan to reunite his brother and his best friend, but Cas is worried it will all blow up in their faces, and he'll go through the agony of losing Dean a second time.

Satin and Sawdust by Ltleflrt / 159594 w. / E (ltleflrt.tumblr.com)

When Castiel moves out of Jimmy's house and into his own place for the first time, he saves money on buying a home by investing in a Fixer-Upper. He knows nothing about how to fix the many problems the house has, but he figures he's smart enough to figure it out. Unfortunately it's not too long before he learns that he's way in over his head.

Thankfully his new neighbor Dean is a handyman, and agrees to help him out. He knows Dean has a bit of a crush on him, but he's not taking advantage of it, really. Dean's a great guy, and quickly becomes a good friend. But a flash of satin under Dean's toolbelt changes everything.

Like Cats and Dogs by sweetdean / 188749 w. / E

Dean Winchester, Alpha, lead Hunter for the Pack, is in need of a mate. His wolf is out of control, he's on edge, and nothing seems to be doing the trick. Dean is convinced that he'll never find a mate, but when the Pack's Council forces him to figure it out before he ends up going rogue, Dean doesn't have much of a choice.

Problem is, Dean isn't interested in what the members of his pack have to offer; and that means looking elsewhere. Dean knew his mate would have to be different. He just didn't know what "different" would really mean, and how "different" would bring his whole world crashing down on top of him.

Angel's Wild by LimonadeGaby, riseofthefallenone / 389271 w. / E

But that’s the whole reason he’s here, isn’t it? He’s not out here hunting Humans. He’s not even hunting deer, or bears, or anything else that featured in Bambi. He’s out here, freezing his nuts off every night, because he’s hunting Angels.

Sometimes Dean wishes that Angels were like how they’re described in the Bible. How people from time too old for him to care much about thought Angels were messengers and warriors of God,protectors of Humans. He knows that how they’re really described in the Bible is actually pretty terrifying, but at least they were told by God that they’re supposed to love Humans, right? That’s a thousand times better than what Angels really turned out to be.

Writtenby:riseofthefallenone Artist and co-author: limonadegaby

Out of the Deep by riseofthefallenone / 909874 w. / Series / T and E (this takes serious dedication but so worth it... don’t be scared ;))

Part 1 : Out of the Deep by riseofthefallenone

Stay away from the light-beds. Stay in the deep. It is the first thing hatchlings are taught the moment their fans unfurl and they can swim without their parents to buoy them along. It is the first rule, the first law. It is the beginning of every boogey-monster bedtime story told when they settle against the cliffs to sleep. Castiel should have listened better.

Fandom: Supernatural Pairing : SamxDean (no rude comments plz!)

Stay The Distance by lazy_daze / 23934 w. / E

"You know why. I'm not leaving my brother alone out there."

Sam is dependent on Dean's touch and closeness after the wall falls - Dean's presence reminds him of why he chose to wake up, and keeps the memories at bay, allowing Sam to function.

The brothers have to face up to what happens when their Winchester codependency becomes literal, and the physical, spatial and temporal boundaries of their bond blur the line between familiar and suffocating, comforting and limiting.

Hit the Ground Crawling by jonny_vrm (elmo_loves_me) / 28122 w. / E

After Sam pulls Dean out of Hell, Dean stops talking. It takes a week for Sam to convince Dean to open his mouth so Sam can check that his tongue hasn't been cut out. It takes two weeks for Sam to accept that Dean really isn't talking. Then it takes a week of silence, the two of them sitting in the Impala like ventriloquist dummies, sitting in motel rooms like human taxidermy, before Sam decides to start talking for the both of them.

Old Country by astolat / 40639 w. / E (crossover Harry Potter)

Sam and Dean go to Hogwarts.

(spoilers for All Hell Breaks Loose, Deathly Hallows)

Courting Death by theproblematique / 50723 w. / E

Sam Winchester lived the first six months of his life in a happy family; the next twelve years as John Winchester's only son, and the last decade as an orphan. He's supposed to die at twenty-two trying to save the woman he loves from a fire, because he doesn't have a brother to pull him back. But the night Sam meets his Reaper he discovers that Death is overly fond of pop-culture references, too beautiful to be real, and reluctant to kill him.

Fandom: Supernatural Pairing : SamxDeanxCas (no rude comments plz!)

Not a bird by zation / 11100 w. / E

Castiel finds himself alone in the Winchesters’ motel room and as he waits for the brothers he feels the need to groom his wings. Sam and Dean eventually arrive and things get out of Castiel’s somewhat confused hands.

Or, The one where Sam just couldn’t let that opportunity pass him by.

Share Each Other Like An Island by TheGeminiSage / 27576 w. / E

Dean never expected to see his amulet again, much less with Sam's soul inside. But after a century in Hell, Sam's soul is broken so badly that Castiel says it'll take a lifetime to heal, and that's a lifetime they don't have, not with Sam's body still hellbent on killing Bobby.

Together, Dean and Castiel set themselves the task of learning the amulet's complicated history, and just what Sam did on his last night on earth.

Enfleurage by saltandbyrne / 29155 w. / E

Castiel is a struggling perfumer with a rare gift. When a handsome new customer orders a custom scent for his husband, Castiel is drawn into a world he never imagined. Dean and Sam have secrets, and Castiel might be the only person who can share them.

CollegeAngels.com by tiptoe39 / 33540 w. / E

AU. Dean and Sam have always been a little too close, and Dean knows it's wrong -- so he heads to college, hoping that he'll meet someone there who will keep his mind off his little brother. He meets Castiel, who has a business proposal for him --- join Cas in bed, and online, for live webcam site CollegeAngels.com. Through Castiel, Dean learns about sex, kink, and freedom, and he finally feels pride instead of shame for who he is.

But then Sam gets accepted to the same school, and he wants to live with Dean...

Fandom: Supernatural Pairing : None

Into This Wild Abyss by jacyevans / 17809 w. / T

A year after Sam jumps into the cage, Dean finds him alive, but missing an integral piece of himself - his daemon, Astrid. Dean knows she isn't lost, and he and his own daemon, Saskia, embark on a quest to find a way to bring her home. Their search brings them to Lyra Belacqua, a mysterious hunter who tells them that the only way to find Astrid is to speak with Death. Death offers Dean an ultimatum: become Death for a day, and he will do everything in his power to bring Astrid back. However, this means doing the unthinkable - Dean must leave Saskia behind.

Fandom: Suits Pairing : Marvey

In The Middle (Before I Knew I Had Begun) by PanBoleyn / 4398 w. / M

It's an accident, when Mike touches Lyla. But everything follows from there.

(Or maybe everything follows from the moment Rhi saw the golden tiger and all she could think was how beautiful she was.)

love will come through (it's just waiting for you) by tattooedsiren / 7113 w. / M

"I just need more time," Harvey says, almost begs.

Because he's not ready for this, not yet. He knows, the way he's certain Mike does too, that if they do this then that's it. For better or worse, this will either make them or completely ruin them.

They are standing at the crossroad of that, but he's not yet ready to choose his path.

The Cat That Walked By Himself by Xanthe / 8737 w. / T

Everyone has a soul animal, but the ability to see them has faded. Harvey Specter possesses not only the ability to see them but also to transform into his own soul animal. Harvey likes to think of himself as the cat that walks by himself, but that changes when he meets Mike Ross, and comes face to face with the rarest soul animal of all…

Extract: If Harvey hadn’t had the Specter gift for seeing into a person’s soul and glimpsing the true self within, then he would have sent Mike Ross packing the minute he showed up for a job interview carrying a suitcase full of weed. The reason he didn’t was because he looked into Mike’s soul and saw something he’d never seen before - and it shocked him to his core.

Second Spin by machtaholic (cinderella81) / 12999 w. / M

It all started when Kyle broke one of Harvey's records. Kyle knew a guy who knew a guy. In comes Mike Ross, owner of the record shop Second Spin.

There are sparks, but both men are fairly stubborn ... but don't worry, this is me. It has a happy ending. :D

a life sentence (in your arms) by tattooedsiren / 13086 w. / T

Harvey doesn't know why the following words come out of his mouth. It's the lawyer in him, he supposes, always trying to get to the truth of the matter. And besides, he's been accused of many things over the years, and tact is rarely one of them.

"So, are you a prostitute?" Mike bursts out laughing.

"No, no I'm not. But it's a common misconception. I'm a professional cuddler."

something inevitable by tattooedsiren / 14853 w. / E

He would be lying if he said he wasn't tempted. Because he has known Mike for a grand total of twenty minutes and already knows that Mike would work hard, could excel if given the chance. And more than that, he likes this kid, his bravado and cheek, the way he can give back as good as he gets. And Harvey only expected to find someone he could tolerate; he never anticipated finding someone he actually liked. But he can't do it. There are bigger things at play here. He would be betraying Jessica - she’s done so much for him, more than he could ever enumerate, and hiring someone with no degree is not a fine way to repay her.

So as much as he wants to go back, to say, "You're hired, you start on Monday," he can't. He won't.

Instead he says, "The coast is clear."

[AU in which Harvey doesn't hire Mike in the pilot episode.]

Crescendo by smartalli for starskeeper / 26334 w. / E

Music & Lyrics inspired AU. Harvey Specter was on top of the world and on top of the charts – until his father died and his partner betrayed him, abandoning Harvey to launch his own solo career. Without him, without a partner to compose the music, Harvey’s career is in jeopardy. And with just a month left until his album is due, the clock is ticking. He thinks he’s done for, until he passes by a storefront and sees a man in a gray hoodie, hunched over in front of a piano, fingers flying over the keys.

Grande Soy Triple Dirty Chai by friskaz / 38301 w. / M

Every fandom needs a barista au.

Original prompt on the kink meme: "Harvey is (still) a lawyer. Mike is the only barista that gets his coffee order right, and isn't afraid of a bit of intelligent and snarky banter."

I don't feel right (when you're gone away) by IDreamOnlyOfYou (lauren3210) / 47575 w. / E

Harvey loves his suits. But there maybe something else he loves more. He just needs a little something to help him realise it before it's too late.

Better Days by turnyourankle / 58520 w. / E

June, 1999.

Mike Ross has just graduated high school, and is about to enjoy one last carefree summer before attending Columbia University. With two part-time jobs, demanding friends, and having to prep for college, Mike thinks his summer is set.

What he doesn’t expect is developing a crush on his friend’s older brother.

Pizza-Verse by Closer / 65613 w. / Series / T to E

In an alternate universe, Harvey's still the best closer in New York but Mike's not a runner for Trevor: he's a pizza deliveryman, Harvey's favorite pizza deliveryman. And Harvey's discovery that Mike's more than he lets on will change everyone's lives...

Told and retold through Mike, Donna, and Harvey's point of view, with new scenes and reactions each time.

Part 1 : Pizza And A Movie by Closer

Fandom: Suits and Teen Wolf Pairing : Marvey and Sterek

Uneven Odds by Dark_K / 93273 w. / M

Harvey is having a tough time adjusting to the way things are at the firm right now. Mike doesn't know if he'll ever have Harvey's trust back. Derek is afraid he's made all the wrong choices, and Stiles... well, Stiles may be a little too broken to know what to do anymore.

The one where they are brothers - they just have no idea what that means.

Fandom: Merlin (BBC) Pairing : Merthur

The Wall of Arthur by supercalvin / 4557 w. / M

In a surprisingly good David Attenborough impression, Gwaine said, “Here you see the remarkable mating ritual of the Merlin and the Arthur. Which involves mostly insults and swearing.”

Or: How Merlin and Arthur Met and Why There is a Restroom Wall Dedicated to Arthur’s Ass

Strike of Lightning by helloearthlings / 4830 w. / T

Uther's commandment was very simple: If there should come a day when Arthur met his soulmate, he would drive a sword through their chest and kill them on sight.

All's Well That Ends Well by StormDancer / 6298 w. / E

Merlin spent the week and a half that Arthur was gone splitting his time between crafting careful explanations that never ended up explaining the important things, the things that would make Arthur listen, and making half-baked plans to escape to Ealdor.

He found a number of fire-proofing spells that would have no effect if they decided to cut his head off, and figured out how to adapt an invulnerability spell he had been trying to find a way to cast on Arthur without him noticing so that it would protect him from being decapitated, but it would have no effect on anything but metal.

Despite all his frantic searching, he did not find a teleportation spell, because that would have been too simple and if there was one thing Merlin had learned in his years at Camelot, it was that nothing was ever simple.

The Pact by Cori Lannam (corilannam) for vissy / 17700 w. / E

The ancient Albion Pact demands that the Prince of Wales must take someone magic born as his soul-bonded consort by the time he is 30 or face death. Before he was a Detective Inspector Warlock, Merlin Emrys was young and in love and made a promise to Prince Arthur -- and now Arthur is calling it in.

The Crown of the Summer Court by astolat / 24339 w. / E

"The king sent me to get you," Merlin said, with a tone that implied strongly that he wasn't rolling his eyes where Arthur could see, but just wait until his back was turned.

"He said you're to get changed into formal clothes and meet him in the Great Hall, there's a delegation coming from the Summer Court."

The Practice Boyfriend by giselleslash / 24495 w. / M

Merlin’s been in love with Lance for years, but he hasn’t had much experience dating and he wants to figure out the ins and outs of dating before Lance comes back into his life.

Cue Arthur and his manwhoring ways, ready and willing to show Merlin the ropes.

Stars Above, Stones Below by Destina / 46843 w. / E

After the disastrous end of his betrothal to Gwen and the regret of his offer to Princess Mithian, Arthur swears off finding a wife until he's ready to wed. When Merlin offers himself to Arthur as bedmate, Arthur suggests they hand-fast in secret for a single year of mutual pleasure without obligation.

As their year together unfolds, and secrets and betrayals unravel around them, Arthur and Merlin learn there is no such thing as uncomplicated pleasure. Everything they thought they knew can change in the span of a single year.

Emrys Ascending by tricksterity / 110864 w. / T (crossover Harry Potter)

In the depths of the Crystal of Neahtid, Merlin sees the resurrection of Lord Voldemort, an event that will tip the balance of the world so far out that only he has the power to intervene and set it right, or stop it from ever happening. For that, he'll have to pose as a student and attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

The only problem is, he's been chosen instead of Cedric Diggory as a Triwizard Champion, and there's a recently reborn Arthur Pendragon in Gryffindor House.

A Modern Manservant by Mamalazzer / 112645 w. / E

A modern magical comedy very loosely based on Ugly Betty.

Publishing king Uther Pendragon has had enough of his playboy son seducing every female assistant he has ever had so he hires Merlin, a man he is sure Arthur will never sleep with. Merlin would be more insulted by this fact if he wasn’t so busy trying to juggle his duties, save Arthur's skin from ruthless fashionistas and keep his magic a secret at the same time.

Expect appearances by oil-lathered knights, the occasional mad druid, a perverted Will and a mental caretaker who lives in the basement and keeps harping on about coins and destiny.

The Student Prince by FayJay / 145222 w. / M

A Modern day Merlin AU set at the University of St Andrews, featuring teetotal kickboxers, secret wizards, magnificent bodyguards of various genders, irate fairies, imprisoned dragons, crumbling gothic architecture, arrogant princes, adorable engineering students, stolen gold, magical doorways, attempted assassination, drunken students, shaving foam fights, embarrassing mornings after, The Hammer Dance, duty, responsibility, friendship and true love...

This story was inspired by the thought of Prince William of Wales (and indeed the current Max von Hapsburg) studying at the University of St Andrews; it is also, as the title suggests, at least a little inspired by the operetta 'The Student Prince'.

And that’s it lovelies!! Hope you enjoyed the rec ;)

#supernatural #destiel #samxdean #samxdeanxcas #marvey #suits #merthur #merlin #white collar #nealxelizabethxpeter #london spy #alex x danny #rec list #my rec list #other fandoms #00Q #james bond

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goathouse · 7 years ago

Text

the allydia hogwarts au i kept meaning to write two years ago

so, now that teen wolf fandom is making its resurgence even though none of us actually want to watch the show anymore i’m gonna share this teen wolf-harry potter fusion au i’ve had kicking around for ages

it’s based off of this awesome post about a squib faking her way through hogwarts and going on to join the ministry. that post gave me a lot of feelings, and i like to imagine that squib would go on to pass some important laws.

allison grows up in one of the oldest, most respected wizarding households in the country. Her parents are both aurors, her grandpa and cousin are influential figures in the ministry, and everyone is so excited to see what little allison will do when she starts to show signs of magic. except she never does.

so there’s whispering between the adults in her life about the s word starting when she’s around 9, and they try to hide it from her but allison’s smart and very good at listening in on conversations, so she figures out what’s up pretty quickly. she starts doing some research. she hears all sorts of tales about the horrible lives squibs lead, how they’re all totally dependant on their families, or homeless. there’s lots of stuff in the papers about squib rights debates, too, and the possibility of the situation getting better, but it’s all very nebulous up-in-the-air. she keeps hoping desperately for that spark of magic to come.

it never does, and when she’s 11 she doesn’t receive a letter from hogwarts. the argents decide to prepare allison for her inevitable life as a muggle by enrolling her in a muggle school for the next year. they pick a very nice expensive private school with uniforms just like hogwarts and say “everything will be fine” but of course it’s a total disaster. math is alright but she’s way behind in science from the get-go, and everyone gives her weird looks in history when she hasn’t even heard of the world wars, and then she has to deal with these things called computers that leave her utterly confused. by the end of her first day, all her classmates are joking that she’s an alien, and no one wants to talk to her.

but she puts on a brave face and pushes through. she learns about geology and how to use a mouse and keyboard, and about muggle history. she still has no friends but that’s fine. she’s needs her family to stop worrying about her. she needs to be OK.

then the news comes through. a very controversial law has just passed. squibs can now attend hogwarts on an altered curriculum. starting next year, hogwarts will accept not only 11-year old squibs, but any squibs under the age of 17 who would like to enroll in the first year class. allison hugs her parents and tries not to cry (because crying is weak and argents are supposed to be strong). she doesn’t go back to the muggle school the next day.

allison and lydia get their hogwarts letters on the same day, and both feel a sense of great relief and cautious excitement. lydia has never heard of hogwarts, but she is so glad to finally have an explanation for all the weird things that have been happening around her all her life. she goes to diagon alley and buys all the books on hogwarts and the history of the wizarding world she can get her hands on, and spends the summer preparing. lydia wants to be the best at hogwarts - the most popular, the most successful. most of all, she doesn’t want to be the weird kid like she has been at her elementary school. but how could she be weird at a school full of magic, she reasons. when she reads about the houses, she hopes for ravenclaw; blue is a great color on her.

on the hogwarts express, allison meets scott and stiles, two fellow first years who’ve known each other almost all their lives. they’re friendly and have no idea she’s a squib who’s a year older than them, so she doesn’t tell them. lydia meets a boy named danny, who seems nice enough, but she doesn’t want to decide who her friends will be until she’s got a full picture of the school’s social structure and all the important players.

then they arrive and everyone gets sorted; allison ends up in gryffindor along with scott and stiles. they’re so nice to her but she can’t help but wonder how nice they’ll be when they find out. when lydia sits on the chair and the hat is placed on her head, she hears “Interesting...are you up for a challenge?” to which she thinks, of course, and the hat says, “good, because this is something I’ve been hoping to do for a while now.” and before she can figure out what exactly is going on, lydia has become the first muggleborn ever to be sorted into slytherin.

her first few weeks at hogwarts do not go at all as lydia had hoped. most of her housemates are cold to her and the people who are friendly seem to see her entire existence as a political statement they can support. she hates it, and sets out to take control of the narrative. she befriends jackson, a fellow slytherin who’s not especially fun to talk to but to does seem to have a lot of clout because of his family. he doesn’t like it that she’s clearly smarter than him, so she stops raising her hand in class.

meanwhile, allison is outed as a squib on the second day when it becomes apparent to all her housemates that she is only in about half of their classes. to replace charms and transfiguration, she is allowed to pick two third-year electives, and she chooses muggle studies and care of magical creatures. the former is a breeze after her time in muggle school, and the latter is very interesting subject matter, but she hates being in a classroom filled with older students who whisper loudly about how they can’t believe she’s allowed here.

she’s the only squib in the program (apparently there was one 15-year old squib who declined the invitation, and no others fit the age specifications) and feels hyper visible because of it. it doesn’t help that she constantly needs accommodations in her classes (like needing someone else to light the flame under her cauldron in potions because hogwarts has no magical means of producing fire), and that she only attends half of defense against the dark arts (the first half of each period is supposed to be focused on theory, although much of the time it isn’t and she just has to stand awkwardly to the side). For the other half of the credit, she has an individual seminar with the instructor in which she learns “non-magical defense,” which sounds cool but mostly just involves more theory from a professor who’s intimidating and clearly doesn’t want to be there.

scott and stiles stick by allison, thankfully, but she doesn’t really have any other friends. the experience is better than muggle school, but that’s about all she can say about it for the first two years.

third year, everything changes, because third year, they get a new defense against the dark arts teacher, and it’s harry fucking potter. the real-life war hero from the chocolate frog cards. as he tells them all on the first day when a student asks what he’s doing therem he’d decided that auroring is a little too dangerous now that he had a kid, and he’d always been interested in teaching.

naturally, everybody loves professor potter, who is funny and kind and has lots of cool war stories to tell, but no one loves him more than allison because he absolutely changes her life when they meet for their first seminar. “what have you been working on so far?” he asks, and when she tells him he says “well, that sounds completely useless. how would you feel about learning some hand-to-hand combat instead?” and so allison spends two afternoons a week learning to throw a punch and kick, to strike with her elbows and knees, to deflect a blow, to dodge a spell, to take someone’s wand away from them if they’re standing close enough. she’s a quick learner, taking down every phantom attacker professor potter summons to practice on.

meanwhile, lydia starts dating jackson and they become all anyone talks about (well, not the older students, obviously, but most of the people in years one through three are suitably awed). lydia learns that her magical talents and academic success will get her nowhere, but that her pretty face is a powerful asset indeed. she wields it with pride.

in 4th year, allison dates scott for three months before she finds out that he’s a werewolf. she’s not really upset about the werewolf part, but she is very upset that he never told her even though he apparently told stiles ages ago. he’s apologetic and they become friends again after a bit, but she can’t shake the feeling that she’s the extra piece that doesn’t really fit, that scott and stiles need each other so much more than they need her.

allison takes out her frustrations on professor potter’s conjurations. he’s moved on from human attackers to magical beasts, and she rips them apart with the knife she's now allowed to carry. “how would you feel about learning to use other weapons?” he asks one day, and when he offers her a selection, she picks the bow.

it’s the start of fifth year when allison and lydia have their first real conversation. they’ve encountered each other plenty but never had reason to talk until their potions professor announces that everyone needs to find a partner and he will no longer be allowing groups of three. allison looks to scott and stiles, her partners from the last 4 years, and knows instantly what’s going to happen. she tells them it’s fine and gets up, looking around for a friendly face. lydia, meanwhile, is telling jackson that no, she doesn’t mind at all if he partners with danny, and silently rejoicing because it’ll be a break from cleaning up after her boyfriend’s idiocy.

“do you know what you’re doing in this class?” lydia asks allison with a penetrating expression. “yes,” says allison, “do you mind that you’ll have to do all the spells?” “i don’t like to let anyone else do the spells anyway,” lydia says with a smile, and then it’s settled. they make the best pepperup potion in the class that day. “it is such a relief to finally have a competent partner in my favorite subject,” lydia remarks. “it’s your favorite subject?” says allison, “mine too! and, uh, i love my friends and everything, but i’m definitely glad we’re partners now too.”

after that, they get along like a house on fire. they talk about their shared love of potions (lydia loves how exact and scientific it is, and allison loves how it allows her to make a sort of magic herself), wizard fashion, and, after a few weeks of bonding, the feeling that everyone around you thinks you don’t belong and resents your presence. lydia’s mostly flippant at first, obviously uncomfortable talking about it, but allison understands and pushes just the right amount. lydia realizes one night around winter break as she’s falling asleep that allison is almost certainly the only person in this school to ever ask how she’s doing and actually want to know the answer. it feels good to have a real friend; she hadn’t known what she was missing before.

allison and lydia produce the best potion in the class every single session. jackson gets jealous and starts making snide comments, and allison tells lydia she shouldn’t put up with it. “why do you let him think you’re so much less smart than you are?” she asks one day and lydia starts wondering about that herself, too.

the first day of sixth year, after a long summer of sending and reading letters in paris, lydia pulls allison into a tight hug when she finds her on platform 9 3/4. when scott and stiles arrive a few minutes later and sheepishly announce that they’re dating now, allison doesn’t feel any of the jealousy she’d thought she would. she’s just really happy for them, and content about her place in the world for the first time.

NEWT potions doesn’t have partners, but allison and lydia still sit next to each other, and study together for every test. jackson didn’t do well enough on his potions OWL to get into the class, so he’s taken to making comments about how potions is the weakest field in magic. “you don’t even need a wand to do it!” he says once. “all the respectable work is in spellcasting; a muggle could make a potion.” lydia bristles “what’s wrong with something a muggle could do?” she says, glaring, and jackson is shocked into silence for a moment. she’s never talked back during one of his rants, she realizes. she always just let him go on and made sympathetic noises. and when did that become her life?

jackson starts to get more and more insecure and jealous about lydia’s academic success. “i think you need to spend a little less time on school and a little more time on me,” he tells her one day in a very firm tone. she doesn’t even look up from her book as she says “no.” they’re broken up a few minutes later.

as she sits in her room alone after, lydia realizes she doesn’t even feel sad. if a version of herself from a few years ago were here, she’d be screaming at her to go apologize, that her status as jackson’s girlfriend was so much more important than a potions grade, but the version of herself she had become had different priorities. better priorities.

a few days later, they’re walking through the halls between classes when one of her fellow slytherins calls lydia a mudblood, and she doesn’t even have a moment to think up a good retort before allison is punching the guy so hard he falls to the floor. “what’s your magic blood doing for you right now?” she says as she kicks his wand out of his hand before he can get a hex out.

they duck away down the hall as a crowd is gathering and lydia can faintly hear stiles yelling “that was awesome!” behind them. “you didn’t have to do that,” says lydia once they reach a quiet corner far enough away from the noise. “no,” says allison. “it was fun though.” and she smiles and lydia has never wanted anyone to defend her, never wanted to need defending, but she finds that right now she doesn’t mind at all. it helps that allison was defending herself a bit too, that they’re kind of in the same boat, even if they’re opposites in so many ways.

“god, the look on his face was amazing,” lydia says, and they both laugh, and lydia can’t remember ever being so happy before, and allison looks absolutely beautiful with her head thrown back, her hair in disarray, and blood on her knuckles. so lydia kisses her.

allison is still laughing as she kisses back, and it’s so easy and simple and so fucking perfect.

jackson tries to get lydia back a few weeks later, putting his arms around her from behind and whispering in her ear about how he can make people stop talking shit about her family, and she kneels down and flips him onto the ground in one swift movement, exactly as allison taught her a few days before. “no thanks,” she says as she begins walking away. she can hear him wheezing on the ground but she doesn’t look back. “i’m good.”

#allydia #allydia fic #lydiallison #teen wolf #my fic #does anybody even write this pairing anymore?#man i hope so #otp: falling in love with your smile #btw before i get people yelling at me about the sorting #the only reason stiles ended up in gryffindor #was because scott had already been sorted #and stiles begged the hat not to separate them #it was on his head for like 10 mins but he eventually convinced it

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ghostsinthewoods · 8 years ago

Text

Bonus: Gregg and Bea Solve a Mystery

Early evening in Possum Springs. The sky was a sleepy orange, the setting sun poking out from behind a few scarce clouds. The weather was getting warmer. It was still appropriate weather for long sleeves and hoodies, but more and more people were just wearing t-shirts.

Not that Bea could appreciate the weather, really. She was stuck behind the counter at the Ol' Pickaxe. A whole day of moving tools, lifting supplies, and explaining different types of hammers to the customers.

They really needed to get someone else on the team. That guy Danny had worked for them for, like, two or three days before getting fired. Maybe Germ was looking for a job? He already helped out sometimes.

Bea almost considered if Mae might be interested, but she decided against it. She loved Maeday, but she didn't trust her around anything heavy and unwieldy.

Well, this was all stuff Bea could talk to her dad about. He'd been having a few good days recently. Bea would have been hopeful, but he'd had good days before. Without some sort of professional help, Bea didn't know if her dad would get out of the place he was in.

The bell above the door rang, and Bea already knew who it was. Mae stopped in to check on her friends every day. It was right before closing, so if Mae wanted to do something, Bea felt like she'd be down for it. She didn't really have any other plans.

But it wasn't Mae at the door. That threw Beatrice for a loop. Instead, it was Gregg. His expression was hard to read as he sprinted towards the shop's counter.

This was weird. Gregg almost never stopped in at the Ol' Pickaxe. It wasn't an unwelcome surprise, of course—she didn't hang out with Gregg that much, but she still considered him a friend. Still, something seemed wrong.

"Dude, the barn!" He said, stopping to catch his breath. "Burglars!"

"Okay, Gregg, I'm going to need a complete sentence," Bea said. "Also, hello to you, too."

Gregg seemed confused at first. He nodded, though, and waved. "Yeah. Hey. Hi, Bea. Hi. Someone broke into the Party Barn."

"Is it really breaking in considering it's abandoned?" Bea asked. "Because, if it is, then we break in there all the time."

"This is serious, Bea!" Gregg exclaimed. "They jacked our shit! All of our shit is jacked as hell!"

Okay, that was concerning. Bea knew that leaving the instruments in the Party Barn was a bad idea. It was a good thing she wasn't dumb enough to leave her computer in there. But now wasn't the time to say 'I told you so.'

"Have you told the police?" Bea asked. Almost as soon as she said it, though, she realized it was a dumb question. Gregg shared the same 'Eff the cops' mentality that Mae had. The antiestablishment fervor of middle class 20-somethings.

"If I tell the cops, they'll just say it was dumb for me to keep my shit in there," Gregg said.

"Okay, but it was pretty dumb," Bea pointed out.

"And that's why I'm not telling the cops," Gregg said. "I've already heard it from you."

Bea sighed. "Look, Gregg, I'm sorry. This really sucks. Is there anything I can do?"

"Yeah," Gregg said, "I'm gonna try and sleuth out some clues. Come with me. Let's be cops."

Bea wasn't even sure what to say to that. Over the few years she'd known him, Bea had never quite gotten used to Gregg's strange brand of zaniness. It seemed like every few days, he had something new to surprise her. This was one of those days.

"Okay, I guess I can help you look," Bea said slowly. "Should we, like, tell Mae or Angus?"

Gregg frowned. "Nah, Mae's doing something with Germ. And Angus has…" A look of mild disgust seemed to cross Gregg's face. "He's got family stuff."

Ah. 'Family stuff'. Now that she thought about it, Angus had mentioned his brother would be coming over for a visit a few weeks ago. That meant a visit to their mom. Bea felt her face contort into the same look of disgust that Gregg had.

"Alright," Bea sighed. "Let's go. I don't know what you're expecting, though."

Gregg grinned. "I'm expecting to solve a mystery, Beatrice."

The Party Barn seemed to never change. Ever since it had closed, and the supplies and furniture had been moved out, it seemed to be in a constant state of emptiness. It was like the pictures of abandoned building people posted online.

Well, it was an abandoned building. Most of the time. But whenever the band was in there, for a few minutes every night the building was full of music.

Tonight, though, it was only full of old confetti and two idiots looking for clues.

Bea wasn't entirely sure why she was there. It was probably just because she didn't really have anything else to do. It was a little weird that Mae had decided to just hang out with Germ without saying hi.

Then again, both Mae and Germ were a little weird themselves.

While Gregg searched around behind the Birthday Zone stage, Mae leaned against one of the support columns and lit a cigarette. Watching Gregg dig through the old streamers and decorations, Bea found it amazing that he had so much energy after a day of work.

"Oh, shit!" Gregg suddenly called out.

Bea raised an eyebrow. "What? Did you find something?"

Bea walked over to where Gregg was crouched down. She'd figured he hadn't found whatever clue he was looking for, and she was right. Gregg was pointing to the cement floor underneath the Birthday Zone stage. Graffiti of all sorts had been carved into it.

Gregg was pointing at a cluster of words in particular. 'GGG', 'KC', and 'MAEDAY'.

"Oh," Bea said. "I'm guessing this is something you guys did a while ago?"

"Yeah, when we were, like, 12," Gregg said. "For some reason, Casey thought it was cool for him to write his name as 'KC' back then." He shrugged, and then pointed to the three G's on the floor. "That's mine."

Bea blinked. She knew for a fact that those weren't his initials. "Why the three G's?" She asked.

Gregg smirked, as if he was holding in the greatest joke in the world. "They're the G's in my name," he said. "They stand for Gay, Gayer, Gayest."

Bea laughed. "You know, you're lucky your name has three G's in it. That joke wouldn't work if your name was, like, Lawrence. You should be thankful."

"I'm thankful that my name isn't Lawrence every day of my life," Gregg said.

Bea was contemplative for a moment. "So, like," she said, "I hope you don't think this is prying, but did you really know you were gay back when you were 12?"

Gregg didn't seem offended. He shrugged nonchalantly. "I mean, I almost feel like I've always known. Like, I realize there must have been a point in my life when I didn't know, but… I mean, I dunno."

Bea nodded. "Right. Sorry, I don't know why I asked."

"Dude, it's cool. Don't apologize." Gregg laughed. "I mean, I knew who I was pretty early. I feel like a lot of people probably go through life not knowing who or what they're into, you know?"

Bea did know. Some people, like Gregg or Jackie, figured out who they were fairly early. Meanwhile, Bea wasn't 100% certain about who she was. She was fairly certain she was straight. At least, she thought she was. But every so often, something happened that made her question that.

Now wasn't the time to think about that, though. Gregg continued searching under the stage. After a few seconds, he let out a triumphant cry and pulled something out.

"Check it out!" He exclaimed. "A clue!"

It took Bea a few seconds to register what exactly it was. Mostly because she couldn't believe what she was seeing.

"That's a bong," Bea said.

"Sure is!" Gregg said. "Our culprit must've dropped it when they were nabbing the instruments."

Bea didn't even know where to start with that. For one thing, it wasn't an old bong. The green glass wasn't dusty, so it couldn't have been here for long. Also, while Bea wasn't very knowledgeable about weed culture, she somehow doubted that people just carried bongs with them all over the place.

"Levy probably knows whose bong this is," Gregg said. "If not, he can point us in the right direction."

"Then what?" Bea asked.

"Then, we nab 'em," Gregg said with a grin. "We bring 'em to justice!"

"Gregg, we're not cops." Bea pointed out.

"We killed those weirdos in the mine. We're basically cops."

"That's not how being a cop works," Bea muttered. "That's the opposite of how being a cop works."

Gregg rolled his eyes. "Whatever. It's a lead. Now let's go out to the Food Donkey and find Levy." He crammed the bong into his leather jacket. The top of the pipe poked out of the neck hole.

There was no way this wasn't going to end badly.

Bea wasn't in the habit of hiking out to the Food Donkey. If she was, she probably would have felt like the trek took a bit longer than it normally would. The whole way there, she was terrified someone would notice the green bong poking out of Gregg's jacket.

To her surprise, though, no one seemed to notice. Even in Possum Springs, everyone was busy with their own lives.

"So," Gregg said as they made their way past the Clik Clak, "you and Angus have been friends for a while, right?"

"Since, like, 8th grade, yeah," Bea said. Then, she chuckled. "To be honest, I was kinda surprised when you two started dating. Like, you're complete opposites in a lot of ways. No offense."

"You're really worried about offending me, huh?" Gregg asked. "Don't sweat it. He's big and cool, I'm small and scrappy. He's a super genius, I'm… Gregg."

Bea frowned, stopping in her tracks. Gregg stopped alongside her. "I don't think Angus would agree with that. You're smarter than you give yourself credit for."

Gregg laughed at that. It was a sad bark of a laugh. They continued walking along the black tar of the parking lot. The two turned the corner around the Food Donkey, making their way to the back. Bea was beginning to notice the faint smell of glue.

"Man, it's my second time seeing Levy in less than a week," Gregg muttered.

"Who is Levy, anyway?" Bea asked. She hadn't always socialized with the same people as Gregg and Mae. She'd known Casey, sort of; mostly through his reputation as a troublemaker. But Levy? Bea didn't remember anyone named Levy.

"Eh. If you don't know him, you don't know him," Gregg replied. "Thanks for coming with me, by the way. Kinda bored without Angus or Mae."

"I still can't believe Angus's brother makes him visit their mom," Bea muttered. "Like, I get he's trying to do be, like, a bigger person and all, but—"

"There's a lot about Angus's brother I don't get," Gregg said. "Let's leave it at that. I don't hate the guy, but… yeah. I feel like it'd be better if he just left Angus alone."

Bea didn't know if she entirely agreed with that. She'd met Angus's brother once or twice. Still, Gregg did have a point; he needed to stop dragging Angus along to meet with toxic people from his past.

They were behind the Food Donkey now. While the front was simply abandoned, the back was a mess. It was covered in graffiti. A pair of half-filled dumpsters were lined out along the back. Two people were huddled between the dumpsters, relaxing.

Bea recognized one of them. And she was very confused.

"Mae?" Bea called out as they approached the dumpsters.

Mae waved cheerfully at Bea, a smile on her face. "Hey, kids."

"Mae?!" Gregg yelled a bit too loud. "What are you doing here, Mae?"

Mae blinked. Her smile was replaced with a puzzled frown. "What? Dude, you told me to—"

"Hey, Levy, what's this bong?!" Gregg practically screamed.

The huddled up figure in the green hoodie looked up at Gregg. He looked like a mess. His eyes were baggy and lifeless. He looked like he hadn't shaved in months. Also, he smelled like glue. Like, really badly.

"Hey, Craig," he said. Then, he looked at Bea. "Hey, Steve."

It took Bea a moment to figure out that she'd somehow been confused with Steve Scriggins. She and Steve didn't look anything alike. How did you make a mistake like that? The guy was clearly out of it, but still. Weird.

While Gregg fished the bong out of his jacket, Bea exchanged a confused look with Mae. Her oldest friend could only shrug. It seemed like she was as confused as Beatrice.

"Hey, man," Gregg said, "we found this bong at the Party Barn. Someone stole our shit, and—"

"Wait, what?!" Mae blurted out. "The instruments were stolen? When? Who? Why?"

"That's what we're trying to find out," Bea said. "Apparently."

Levy, meanwhile, was transfixed on the bong. Well, not transfixed. But his glazed over little eyes were pretty focused on it. The stoner reached his arm up and wiped his nose off on his sleeve. Slowly, he stood up, and reached out his hand to take the bong. When he wasn't curled up with his knees to his chest, Bea was surprised by how tall he was.

"I saw a bong like this up in Bright Harbor once," Levy said. He turned it over in his hands with surprising delicateness. "Shit's legal there, man. Dunno whose it is, though. Sorry, Craig."

"It's Gregg," Craig said.

"Weed's legal in Bright Harbor?" Mae asked. "Whoa, wait, is that why you guys are moving there?"

Gregg stared blankly at Mae. "No, dude. I already told you why we're moving. It isn't for the weed."

"You don't gotta be ashamed, man," Levy said, handing the bong back to Gregg. "I'd move to where it's legal if I could afford to. You and your dude will probably have a lot of fun in Bright Harbor."

"Yeah," Mae said. "You'll have fun smoking pot and getting sheep tattoos."

At times like this, Bea honestly couldn't tell if Mae was joking or not. She sincerely hoped she was. Mae seemed to misunderstand a lot of stuff a lot of the time, though. It was like a weird gift she had. Although she wouldn't put it past Gregg to get a second sheep tattoo.

Gregg stuffed the bong back into his jacket. He had a serious expression on his face. In fact, it was a little too serious. Like he was trying too hard. "Look, the culprit left the bong at the scene of the crime. Can you tell us anything?"

Levy sniffed, pausing to scratch his nose. "I dunno, man. I mean, I'm pretty knowledgeable about weed culture, and I can tell you for a fact that people don't just carry bongs with them all over the place."

"Oh, hey, that's what I thought," Bea said.

Levy looked at her as if he'd completely forgotten she was there. He blinked a few times, and then continued. "Uh, yeah. Okay. Anyway, it might've been one of the folks off the train or something. I dunno."

"This is garbage!" Mae shouted, throwing her hands up into the air. Bea looked over at Gregg. She expected him to be similarly upset. Instead, though, Gregg had a much harder-to-read expression. Gregg's eyes flicked from Mae, to Bea, and for a moment he looked caught off guard.

"Extreme garbage, yeah," Gregg said. "Man, I'm so upset. I just wanna kick a tree." He nodded, slowly. "We should all go get pizza so I'm not mad anymore."

What was it with everyone in Bea's circle of friends and solving their problems with pizza? "I seriously think we should go tell the cops, Gregg," Bea said. "It might not be too late for them to do something."

Mae winced. Bea had a good feeling she knew why. "If you guys are gonna talk to the cops, I think I'll pass. I feel weird around cops ever since last year."

Levy nodded, seemingly in agreement. "Yeah, I don't like cops. I can't come with you guys."

Bea opened her mouth to tell Levy that this didn't involve him, so they hadn't really expected him to come along. But there probably wasn't any point. Levy seemed like he just kind of did things.

"We'll probably find some cops at the Clik Clak," Gregg insisted. "Anyway, we gotta carbo load if we're gonna report a crime to the cops. Need some cheesey pizza in our bellies. Cops won't respect us otherwise."

"Nothing you just said made sense," Bea said.

"Yeah," Mae said slowly. "But, I mean, all this talk about cheese has me all hungry for some pizz." Mae paused. "Er, I'm calling pizza 'pizz' now," she clarified.

"No, we all got that," Bea assured. She sighed. Why were her friends like this? She loved them, more or less, but still. It was like rounding up a bunch of children, and she and Angus were the parents.

No. Wait. That analogy didn't really work, because Angus was in a relationship with one of their adult children. This comparison was getting kind of gross. Bea decided to drop it.

"Fine," she sighed. "Pizza is fine. But if the cops can't find Gregg's instruments, it's you guys' fault."

Gregg threw up his arms and made a strange howling noise. Bea had heard him make it before. She figured it was some sort of in joke between Mae and Gregg. Either that, or Gregg thought he was a werewolf. Bea didn't think the second one was too likely, but Gregg was unpredictable like that.

Anyway, even if Bea wouldn't admit it, she was starting to crave pizza too.

"… And, like, at the bottom is the worst pizza, but everything else is still really good!"

The group had just finished eating their first slices, and Gregg was finishing up his explanation of the pizza scale. It had come up when Levy had complained about the pizza. He was fairly opinionated for a guy who'd followed them to a diner without asking.

To be fair, though, he at least had money to pay for some of the pizza. That was more than Mae could contribute. And she'd actually been invited.

Bea still wasn't sure why they were eating pizza instead of going to the cops. Sure, Gregg was a little impulsive, but still. Even Mae seemed a little on edge as she helped herself to one of Gregg's leftover crusts.

Meanwhile, Gregg was acting like nothing was wrong. In fact, he was fairly chipper. Out of the four people at the table, he was in the best mood, no questions asked. Mae was on edge, and Levy seemed just kind of… bleh.

"So," Bea said, trying to change the topic of conversation, "Gregg, you guys are going apartment hunting soon, right?"

There was an immediate shift in mood at the table. Gregg somehow got even more excited. Talking about the move always seemed to cheer him up. Mae, meanwhile, had an uncomfortable look on her face. She wasn't happy about Gregg moving; or, at least, she was conflicted. She didn't do a good job at hiding it.

Levy remained completely neutral as he ate a slice of pizza, crust-first.

"Oh, yeah. We're staying in some dumpy motel outside of town while we go searching." Gregg's eyes lit up. "Oh! You guys should tell me what you want! I'll bring you souvenirs!"

"I'd like some saltwater taffy," Levy said.

"Uh… I wasn't really asking you, but okay. I'll keep it in mind, dude."

"Do they have any places that sell, like, samurai swords?" Mae asked. Her mood had turned around a bit. Samurai swords tended to do that.

"Mae, I can't afford a samurai sword. If I could, the apartment would be filled with them," Gregg said.

"Oh." Mae frowned. "Alright, I'll take, like, a shirt, or whatever."

"I'm good more or less," Bea said. "You guys don't need to get anything for me."

"Oh, boo," Gregg said. "Live a little, girl. Jeez."

"Hey, I'm coming down, and I'm starting to realize you aren't Steve," Levy said, as if this was some major revelation. Actually, for him, it probably was.

No one seemed to know what to say to that. They just kept eating. Eventually, when they were done with the pizza, Mae spoke up. "Hey, Gregg," she said, "Why'd you tell me to wait for you behind the Food Donkey? I kinda wanted to avoid that place after last time."

That threw Bea for a loop, and raised a couple of red flags. "What?" She said. "Gregg told me you were off hanging with Germ or something."

Mae looked at Bea as if she'd just grown another head. "Uh, no?" She said. "I haven't even seen Germ today. He wasn't hanging out in the parking lot or anything."

Gregg wasted no time in changing the flow of the conversation. "So, Bea, how's the Pickaxe? Still killing you?"

Bea frowned at Gregg. "Don't change the conversation," she said. "Why did you lie about Mae hanging out with Germ?"

Gregg's eyes darted from Mae, to Bea. He looked nervous. Bea got the feeling that Gregg wasn't a great liar. That made sense; he was a pretty genuine guy. The problem was, Bea had no idea why he was lying.

Thankfully, Levy saved the day for Gregg by blurting something surprising out.

"Hey, so your stuff getting stolen reminded me of something," he said. "Did you guys know Possum Springs had a cat burglar in the 20's? Like, during Prohibition and shit."

Levy's sudden broaching of the subject distracted Bea from her suspicion. She'd remembered hearing something like this when she visited the historical society building back in high school. What surprised her was that Levy knew about it.

"A cat burglar?" Mae asked. "Like, the kind with a whip who flips through lasers?"

"Yeah, but it was the 20's, so the lasers probably weren't super-advanced," Levy said. "But back in the 20's, there were a bunch of dudes making moonshine up here. And I guess someone decided to, like, capitalize on that and steal shit."

"Whoa, that's cool," Gregg said. His nervousness was gone, replaced by sincere awe. "So, Possum Springs had some sort of weird super thief?"

"I mean, no," Levy said. "He stole shit for two years, but eventually someone living up in the hills shot him. Turns out he was some homeless dude from off the tracks. He buried everything he stole up near Possum Jump."

"Okay, I didn't know that part," Bea said. "Why'd he bury the stuff?"

Levy shrugged. For once, he didn't look like a stoner. He looked like a normal dude. A normal dude who happened to do drugs, but still. "I dunno, man. Shit's weird. Like, I think every town in the world is sitting on a crockpot of weird shit. And, like, if you dig deep enough, you'll find that crockpot."

"Wait," Mae said. "I'm confused. This guy buried crockpots?"

"I know a lot of stuff about weird shit in Possum Springs," Levy said. "Like, the Deep Hollow Hollerers, the town's secret society, Little Joe. It's all just interesting, you know?"

"I can kinda get that," Bea said.

"Yeah, Bea's a history nerd," Mae commented.

"I'm really only into history when someone dies or goes missing," Levy explained. "But that's, like, most of history, because most people die."

Bea blinked. "'Most people?'" She repeated.

"I don't know everything," Levy said.

That much was pretty obvious.

After dinner was done, it was time for everyone to head home. Mae had gone walking off on her own, and Levy had just sort of slipped away at some point after the meal. It was down to Bea and Gregg again. Since their homes were in the same direction, they were more or less caught in a conversation.

"Well, today turned out a lot more weird than I expected," Bea sighed. She was trying to light up the new cigarette she had placed between her lips. She was grateful it was staying brighter longer during the day. In winter and fall, when the dark came early, she sometimes had trouble switching on the lighter.

"I dunno," Gregg said. "I think by now we've all had much weirder nights."

Bea nodded. The orange flame sprung from her lighter, and soon the end of her cigarette had a healthy glow. God, she'd needed that. "Mhmm," she said. "I guess this night doesn't even rank in my top ten weird nights. Sorry we didn't figure out who stole your instruments, though."

"Oh, I did that," Gregg said casually.

Bea stopped in the middle of the sidewalk while Gregg continued walking. He stopped in front of her, and turned with a sheepish grin on his face. They were right outside the Snack Falcon; inside, a woman was frantically ringing up an insane number of bags of chips.

"What?" Bea asked. "Wait, so this whole thing was some stupid prank?!"

"No, dude," Gregg assured. "It wasn't a prank. It was a ploy."

Bea wasn't sure how angry to be. On the one hand, her time had been wasted. On the other hand, all she'd really lost was a few bucks spent on pizza. So, okay, Bea wasn't really angry. She was more… flabbergasted. That was a good word for it.

"Why?" Bea asked. "Like, seriously, Gregg. What the hell? I know you do a lot of wacky shit and get away with it, but this was really, really dumb."

Gregg chuckled, and shrugged. "I dunno," he said. "You and me never really hang out. I kinda wanted to, like, bond before me and Angus moved."

That caught Bea off-guard. She wasn't sure if that was sweet, or just really misguided. Probably both? Gregg was kind of misguided in general like that. Weird guy. "You couldn't have just asked me to hang out?" She asked.

"I got the feeling you'd, like, be busy or something," Gregg said. "I mean, if it wasn't for Angus, would you ever even bother hanging with me?"

Bea knew the answer to that question. She didn't really want to answer it, though. Gregg was a nice guy, she knew that. Despite her concerns about his relationship with Angus, she didn't have a problem with Gregg. But she and him were nearly complete opposites.

"So, I came up with a bogus emergency to get you to hang with me," Gregg said. "I stashed the instruments in my apartment, and set it up so we'd run into Mae because I knew you'd hang out longer if she was around."

Bea blinked. "How much thought did you put into this?"

"I mean, as much thought as I put into other things," Gregg said.

That didn't really explain anything.

"Okay, Gregg," Bea said, "I get that you thought that this was, like, a fun, quirky thing, but if you stop to think about it, it was kind of manipulative."

Gregg stared at Bea blankly. Then, a look of realization spread on his face, followed by an expression of shame. "Oh, shit," he said. "Yeah. Wow. This was kind of not a great thing to do, huh?"

"Yeah, like, I'm glad you want to be better friends, but if I didn't know you, Gregg, I'd punch you right in your jaw," Bea said.

Gregg nodded slowly. "Jeez," he muttered. "Yeah, sorry, Bea. I don't know why I do things sometimes. Like, I just get ideas, and I wanna do them. You know?"

"I kinda got that impression," Bea said. She could feel herself calming down a bit. The cigarette was helping. Plus, Gregg was genuinely apologetic.

"Tell you what," Bea continued. "Next time you want to hang out, maybe you could just ask me. And maybe don't ever pull a stunt like this ever again."

"Don't gotta tell me twice," Gregg said with a laugh.

And he never, ever did.

#night in the woods #nitw #nitw postgame #nitw fanfic #ghosts in the woods #gregg #greggory lee #bea #beatrice santello #mae borowski #postgame #bonus story 1

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cinephiled-com · 5 years ago

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Interview: ‘The Great Hack’ Reveals How Our Data Can Be Weaponized Against Us

Worried that your data is being mined, bought, and sold to the highest bidder? The Great Hack, a fascinating new Netflix documentary from award-winning filmmakers Karim Amer and Jehane Noujaim (The Square, Control Room, Startup.com) uncovers the dark world of data exploitation, offering astounding access to the personal journeys of key players in the explosive Cambridge Analytica/Facebook data scandal. Amer and Noujaim continue their tradition of exploring the seismic ripples of social media with this riveting, complex film. Data has now surpassed oil as the world’s most valuable asset and it’s being weaponized to wage cultural and political warfare. The fact is that people everywhere, including nefarious political campaigns, are in a battle for control of our most intimate personal details, and it’s not getting any better. The Great Hack forces us to question the origin of the information we consume daily. What do we give up when we tap that phone or keyboard and share ourselves in the digital age?

I sat down with Karim Amer and Jehane Noujaim to discuss this fascinating documentary and how what happened with Cambridge Analytica during the 2016 presidential campaign could easily happen again.

Danny Miller: I admit that I’ve never been that concerned with online privacy issues. I always think, “What do I have to hide? Who cares what people do with my data?” I never feel that vulnerable to being unduly influenced because I think that there’s nothing that can pass before my eyes on Facebook, for example, that would ever make me vote for someone like Donald Trump. I’m sure I’m wrong to be so cavalier and smug about the whole thing — can you explain to me why I should be more concerned?

Jehane Noujaim: You bring up a very good point because I think it’s human nature to think that we’re invulnerable. I do think that there’s a certain type of profile that was being targeted during the 2016 election: highly neurotic, fearful people who were prone to be affected by fear-based advertising. But remember, it’s not that everyone is persuadable in the same areas, there are lots of ways other than politics that people can be manipulated, otherwise there wouldn’t be a multibillion-dollar advertising industry.

Karim Amer: The truth is we made this film for people like you. We wanted to figure out how to speak to people who say they have nothing to hide and show them why it does matter?

Jehane Noujaim: We both used to feel the way that you do. Except in Egypt where we are political beings who are going against the grain. But in the United States, we also never thought we had anything to hide.

Karim Amer: We found that the Cambridge Analytica story captured the imagination of many people through a political lens. But in navigating the story, we realized that this wasn’t really about politics at all, it was about how you go about targeting and shaping people’s beliefs. I think as a society we haven’t fully realized how much of ourselves we give away every day. And what happens to all that stuff we give away — where does it go and how can it be used against us?

Yeah, it is pretty freaky how certain ads show up on our feeds based on what we’ve said online, even on a different app.

Karim Amer: I think one of the reasons why we don’t worry about it as that much here is that we have always subscribed to a certain values system in this country, we feel that it’s part of our DNA as Americans. But now we see what’s happening in other countries such as China which has a complete surveillance system on its young people, and what’s happened to the Rohingya people in Myanmar. And we’ve begun to see how people here have been targeted through Facebook and what happens when you give that kind of data control over to a different kind of belief system. I think what we’re realizing is that our legal structures have been usurped by the technologies. It’s not just one thing, but, for example, when I can take your credit card swipes and your health records and everything you’re doing online and get this bigger picture, it’s really something to be concerned about.

I certainly agree with the notion that I should own my data. And I never thought that much about how much data is coming off of me throughout the day until I saw that cool animation in your film.

Karim Amer: We didn’t want to start with politics, we wanted to start with things that happen every day in our data wormholes! It’s like we’ve all entered into this bartering system: we give up our data and we get all these cool services in return. I mean, we don’t pay any money at all to these places like Facebook or Google or WhatsApp, yet somehow they’re among the most profitable companies in the world, but we never stopped to think about how that’ possible. In the old system, we had companies like GM. We gave them money, we got a car in return. But how do these newer companies keep growing where we’re not paying for anything? And what is the cost of all this connectivity?

I used to wonder about things like that and now I’m so used to have it hardly ever crosses my mind. In the film we see Professor David Carroll’s quest to get Cambridge Analytica to give him all the data that they collected on him — why wouldn’t they just hand it over to him? What were they so afraid of?

Karim Amer: That’s a good question, and it brings up the reality we’re living in that in the United States we don’t own any of the collected information about ourselves — none of the Facebook information that exists about us, the Netflix information, anything we’ve done on Google, it’s all the company’s proprietary information thanks to the agreements we signed online when we first joined those services — agreements that none of us really read because it’s annoying so we just click “yes.” We just assume that technology is this amazing kind of God that came down and gave us all these gifts, we never imagined that any of that could go wrong.

So then how could David Carroll even bring that lawsuit, and again, why wouldn’t they just give it to him?

Jehane Noujaim: Because Cambridge Analytica processed all of its data in the UK and there, according to British law and the laws of the EU, anyone has the right to request their data, even if they don’t live there. Here we don’t have that right. British citizens who make such a request get their data, except from Cambridge Analytica. That company preferred to shut down rather than turn over any information to anyone after the huge scandal broke about the 2016 election.

Karim Amer:We still do not know to this day how the Facebook data that Cambridge had was cross-compared and how it created their perfect profile of each person. Think of it this way: it’s like people have this little Danny Miller voodoo doll of all your data, they know everything about you based on your online activities every day. And the smarter the company, the more inputs they put into their Danny Voodoo doll. They put all the information together and get a picture of all of Danny’s emotional impulses — this is what Danny is thinking right now. Forget about their profile of you from the last time you voted, now they know how you felt last week because of the increase in your activity on this site or that, the more information they get, the more there is to cross-reference. And no one really wants to show how all that information is manipulated which is why David Carroll hasn’t been successful in his lawsuit against Cambridge Analytica.

Amazing. And shocking that we don’t even have the right to request our data here in this country.

Karim Amer: There’s not enough political will for that to happen here yet, unfortunately. And there are a lot of people who don’t want you to have it because it changes the system that they’re benefitting from. It’s really been boom time here — everyone is just harvesting data for free and scraping people’s data without them even knowing it. You download an app, you think it’s a fun game, but it’s really tracking your location and selling that to create that voodoo doll of Danny! And one of the things that Cambridge Analytica was particularly good was voter suppression — campaigns designed to get people to not vote at all.

Wow. I have to say that one of the people I found the most fascinating in the film was Brittany Kaiser, the woman who worked for Cambridge Analytica. I’ve watched tons of footage of her online after seeing her in your film and I must have changed my feelings about her at least ten times. From “Wow, she’s so brilliant, good for her!” to “Ugh, what a dangerous opportunist!” It’s hard to determine what she really believes. Did you always understand her motivations?

Jehane Noujaim: I think one of the most fascinating journeys that you go on with characters in a documentary is when they are facing these enormous obstacles and they’re about to jump off a cliff and they let you jump off with them. And when they are in a raw enough situation that you can see their true human nature come out. That’s when these incredible moments happen and they can’t put on any masks.

So, with Brittany, do you think it was more about the fun of getting more power and influence than any commitment to ideology?

Jehane Noujaim: I do believe that she was attracted by the power of it all, and that she shifted. She’s very smart and I think she is someone who was attracted by the science of the data and the effectiveness of creating those algorithms. Which started with her analyzing data in human rights campaigns and seeing that she could actually be effective.

And then Darth Vader started circling.

Karim Amer: Exactly. That Darth Vader/Faust type of character in the form of Alexander Nix at Cambridge Analytica who tempted Brittany into doing something very different. Brittany Kaiser had begun as this idealistic Obama girl who had seen these tools use for creating hope and how these campaigns such as “Yes, We Can” could galvanize people. And then she ends up on the flip side seeing the tools used in a totally different way with Cambridge suppressing votes to help elect Donald Trump. For us, it was fascinating to see how someone could go from here to there. In her story, we see the pendulum swinging from technology being this positive force for change that does no evil to technology becoming this kind of wrecking ball. And, as David Carroll says, leaving us in this place where we are like the handmaidens to authoritarianism and wondering if we’re ever going to have a free and fair election again.

Scary. Did making this film change your own feelings about social media?

Karim Amer: Well, it’s definitely changed my feelings about Facebook as a company.

Do you still have an account?

Karim Amer: I do because I refuse to say that Facebook owns my connectivity to the friends that I have.

Yeah, I’m constantly weighing the advantages of what we get from Facebook with the risks.

Karim Amer: I think we all do now but it’s a false choice. Why does our admission ticket to the connected world have to be no privacy whatsoever? Buying and selling of our data without us having any rights to know what happens to it? Or the ability to change our preferences in any way. If we could at least have some control, some people might say “Okay, you can have access to this data, but not my sexual data or my medical data. We’re going to start seeing more and more issues with other aspects of our lives, whether it’s healthcare or social justice or whatever because increasingly there is no separation between digital and the physical — everything we do these days has a digital footprint so this is really only the beginning.

youtube

The Great Hack is playing in theaters and select cities and is also available on Netflix.

#Cambridge Analytica #Jeanne Noujaim #Karim Amer #The Great Hack #News

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